


Mess Is Mine: A Lifetime

by bad1ands



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Army, Autism Spectrum, Bottom Liam, Bottom Zayn, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Kid Fic, Kid!Fic, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Parent Death, Past Character Death, Pining Liam, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Single Parent Zayn, Smut, Special Forces, Top Liam, Top Zayn, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-01 09:13:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2767700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bad1ands/pseuds/bad1ands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn Malik is an aspiring artist that finds himself a published illustrator and single father of two all in one day. // Liam Payne is playing footie with his Army Special Forces ODA one minute and regaining consciousness three minutes later. Now on "honorable discharge", his PTSD keeps him up at night.</p><p>(Or where Zayn futilely pushes people away because his mess is his own to clean up, and Liam is kept up at night, replaying horrors enough for a lifetime. + Eleanor is Niall's fiancée and Harry & Louis are in denial over mutual feelings.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Familiar Places, New Faces

**Author's Note:**

> I'm from America, so syntax and diction will be mostly rubbish in respect to anyone from any part of the UK.
> 
> For the record, I've done research on the military, but of course not everything will flow smoothly because I don't have first-hand experience with the likes.
> 
> (SPOILER) I have a cousin with Autism (aged 3) and a friend's brother with Asperger's (aged 8), but no first-hand experience, really. Traits for Ezhra I've picked up from research and that of my cousin. The title comes from Mess Is Mine by Vance Joy and A Lifetime by Better than Ezra. Disclaimer: I do not own the band One Direction, nor am I affiliated. This is my own work of fiction.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam returns home to stay a while with Harry, and Zayn is stunted by his arrival.

**L**

_Liam's left hand goes to shield his eyes, glare of the sinking sun not yet behind the mountains. For miles all he can see is desert. The temperature has dropped quite a bit already, and if he wants to finish up this round on top he'll have to score soon. To his right Andy is jogging up near level with him, and he lands the ball just in front of his teammate’s feet as Andy sails ahead, minds in sync, so used to playing high school footie together. Andy aims top right and the ball skims Adam's fingertips before sinking into the makeshift net. Shouts of protest are heard from both teams as Andy runs back toward him, jumping into a dog pile with the rest of his team._

_Moving to the states from Wolverhampton as a preteen wasn’t as big an ordeal as his older sisters made it out to be. Getting accustomed to a whole new culture was tough, though. Being eleven, he was placed into sixth grade, and at that age all of his classmates were enthralled by his Midlands accent enough to drown him in attention._

_By the time high school rolled around Liam was old news, and he was having difficulties adjusting still. A lad named Andy with the only other UK affiliation in the town took Liam under his wing after playing footie with him in gym, and Andy worked up Liam’s confidence enough to try out for the school team._

_Not quite knowing what he wanted to do after high school and tired of never quite feeling like he belonged, Liam followed Andy into the military. For the first few months of basic training Liam didn't know if he'd make it – rising at the crack of dawn, working his body all day with little relief at night. Not to mention little communication with his family. But soon he got used to it. He pushed harder. His team is his family now._

_Everyone is hugging the victory out, the six lads on the opposing team still grinning as they swear to win next game. Liam is bending over, picking up his shirt when a noise like a cannon pierces his ears and a heat wave knocks him to the ground._

_Liam sees black all around him. He thinks he's on his stomach on the cold sand. Slugging his eyelids open, there's a ringing in his ears and he can feel blood trickling down the right side of his face. Pain is radiating throughout his whole body, and he can't pinpoint the location. A look over his shoulder proves that other bodies are littered over the harsh field. Adrenaline hides his panic as he registers helicopter blades whirring. Not knowing how to move, he works his arms to crawl five feet ahead, coming upon sputtering Ramond, black hair matted with blood. He chances an once-over and wishes he hadn't. Ramond no longer has legs, and a pool of oil-slick blood is flooding out of him. Liam chokes back a cry._

_As Ramond's eyes fall on Liam, he tries a smile. "Hey soldier."_

_"What happened?" Liam winces, trying to pull to his knees._

_"Enemy attack. Airdrop. You were out for a good three minutes."_

_"Oh, God. Oh, fuck. How is everyone? Do you know -"_

_"Everyone died on impact," Ramond offers a weak shrug, masking the pain. "Andy's over there," he nudges his head to the left._

_"I'll be right back," Liam rushes, "right back, just -" He's on his right knee, dragging himself over to Andy, collapsing on top of him._

_Andy's eyes sludge open at that, a gasp escaping his lips. Blood accompanies it. "Mate," his breath seems to carry._

_Liam tugs on his dog tag, trying to keep him in focus. "Andy, how you feeling?"_

_His best mate shakes his head, eyes falling shut._

_Panic wells up in Liam as he starts patting Andy's cheek._

_Eyes still closed, Andy offers, "I'm so sorry, mate. You didn't want this, the life of a soldier -" Liam tries cutting Andy off, but he continues, "Go back home. Find Niall. He misses you. You deserve a fresh start."_

_Liam only realizes he's crying when fat, hot tears hit Andy's face. "No. We'll both go back." Even as Liam says it, they both know that's not what's going to happen._

_But Andy grunts a laugh anyway, shaking his head to comfort Liam._

_Somebody is speaking to Liam, telling him it’s useless, that Andy's passed, but Liam continues to hold on, eyes squeezed shut for dear life. He never wants to wake up. His hands are still grasping Andy as soldiers pull him off, hands coming up to his chest to hold in wails of pain, fists tight. Hands are all over him, questions thrown at him, but he only focuses on Andy's tag in his hand._

_"Wait!" he screams, but no one listens, lost in their own commands of "Get Jones! It's no use. They're all gone."_

Liam gasps awake, heart thumping out of his chest as tears and sweat slick his whole body. Legs are tangled in damp sheets as he smells rank piss under him. He rolls off of the bed, hitting the cool floorboards of his bedroom before nudging out of his underwear and gripping the dog tag around his neck. He squeezes for dear life as the sobs numb his ears and the blood flow leaves his taut fingers.

**Z**

Zayn wakes up to utter silence and nuzzles into his pillow. Two seconds later he's jumping out of bed because there's _no crying_. Mezhrad and Ali _always_ wake him with crying. In mere seconds he's out of his room, stumbling over his own two feet as he flashes through his small apartment. Not knowing what his game plan actually is, he just knows his kids are _missing_.

He almost misses Louis stepping into the social room from the kitchen archway ahead of him. "Hey, Z. Rough night?" Ezhra is straddling his side, apple sauce smeared over his chubby cheek, piercing blue eyes finding Zayn as a wide grin graces his face.

Zayn audibly sighs with relief and tries to slow his heart rate. He walks forward to Louis before kissing Ezhra's head as a shrill giggle leaves his slobbery mouth. The scent of Ezhra's strawberry shampoo in his jet-black hair soothes Zayn. "Jeez, Louis, it's like you live here. Don't scare me like that."

"Oh, come on, Z," Louis rolls his eyes, "you know I can't stay in my apartment. Ever since Niall and El started dating he's always coming over to see her. They've practically kicked me out!" he complains.

Zayn enters the kitchen, picking up Ali out of her highchair as she shrieks "Baba!" loud and clear. Ezhra started walking first, but Ali learned his name first. He can nearly never contain his pride when a grin splits his face wide for either child, but, if he’s being honest, Ezhra’s feat usually petrifies him while Ali’s melts him to the core.

"All the more reason to move in with _Harry_ ," Zayn urges.

Harry and Louis have been spending more time together, Louis suddenly with more time on his hands at the end of the footie season. Zayn isn't stupid; he knows Louis spends most of his time at Harry's next door rather than his own flat across the hall. He knows they hook up sometimes. He knows they're in love with each other, but they don't seem to.

Louis scoffs, ignoring Zayn in favor of sinking onto a bar stool, spooning apple sauce into Ezhra's awaiting mouth.

Zayn takes the moment of silence to sit down as well, admiring the profile of Ali as she grabs at cheerios on the table, her button nose with a bit of apple sauce on it. Her cheeks are ruddy from Zayn's kisses, and her chocolate brown eyes are wide as she makes grabby hands at Louis as if to say she wants what her bhai's having. Bits of auburn shine in her hair as well as green in her eyes when Louis offers her a grape.

A year ago Zayn didn't know at all what he was doing. While taking classes at Manchester School of Art Zayn frequented coffee shops. Finally settling in with one he passed on his trek to class, Zayn befriended Eleanor, the student whose parents owned the shop. Getting a job there led to him acquainting with author hopefuls, and somewhere along the way he began pairing up with people to sketch out images for their novels.

A few of his paired works have been looked at and even published, but none have brought as much revenue and exposure as Anthony’s, a bloke in a past night class he had.

If it weren't for his and Anthony’s graphic novel with Titan Books putting money in the bank and the help from the lads, Zayn would have had his babies taken from him most likely. He doesn't know what he'd do without them at this point.

(Really, Zayn thinks to owe all of his thanks to Louis who has ties via relatives to Titan Books.)

Since Zayn and Anthony are barely halfway through the sequel novel he still works at the coffee house when he can. He knows Louis wouldn't mind helping him out with money (what with him having more than he realistically needs), but Zayn feels bad even when Lou buys the kids clothes. Plus, he needs a distraction every once in a while.

As if reading his mind, Louis pipes up, “Get yourself a shower and leave. Don’t you have a shift?” The question is rhetoric.

Zayn groans, tugging Ali closer. In return her hand goes up to his cheek, rubbing over his stubble as she giggles.

“Come on, up, Zayn,” Louis gestures for Zayn to leave, “I’ve got them. We’re going over to Harry’s in a little bit and they can’t bathe until you have.”

Zayn rolls his eyes and places Ali back in her highchair, ignoring her unhappy noise at his arms leave her so he doesn’t skip work.

A quick shower later, Zayn is pulling on a jumper and combat boots, gelling his hair into a quiff. Stepping back into the social room, Louis is on the floor wiping Ali’s butt clean before pulling her shirt off as well. Ezhra is hobbling around already naked, ready for bath time.

The sight takes him back to secondary school when the roles were reversed. When Zayn would wordlessly copy Louis’ homework for him just because. When Zayn was quiet and studious while Louis always pushed off work for a good laugh. (It only took one partnered project for Louis to coerce Zayn out of his shell. Zayn, as it turned out, was just as mischievous, only low key.) Endless nights where scouts came to watch Louis, many ending with Louis fretting into the sleeve of Zayn’s shoulder.

Squatting down to Ezhra’s height, Zayn wraps his arms around his boy and kisses his cheek. “I’ll be off now. Back in a few hours.”

Louis looks over to Zayn, scooping Ali up because he doesn’t trust her legs just yet. “Don’t forget that Niall’s old mate is landing later today.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Zayn remembers something about him being discharged. Niall has been talking about it for a few months now. “Liam. Staying with Harry for a while.”

“Which means,” Louis pulls a devilishly sweet smile, “I’ll be staying here for a while.”

“Oi!” Zayn grunts, starling Ez, “Don’t remind me.”

Louis just laughs. “Oh, you love me. Now,” he switches his eyes between his niece and nephew, “Baba’s leaving. Give him sweets.” It's comical how Louis’ brows raise as if daring either child to object.

Zayn steadies Ezhra’s head on his chest as the boy begins sniffling, little hands rubbing over his sour face. “Oh, baby,” Zayn soothes, “it’s okay.” He kisses at Ezhra’s nose to calm him before he whispers “I love you.”

Standing up with Ez wrapping around his leg he leans into Ali’s outstretched arms, her giggles loving as she presses her open mouth to Zayn’s in a kiss.

Zayn is always a bit put off by Ali’s outgoing nature and comforted by his son’s introverted-ness. But, at the same time, Ezhra’s separation anxiety worries him as well, especially with the boy’s sister so open to coming and going, barely checking in on her Baba as she scampers around.

He pulls back after running his hand over her back. “Alright, clean my babies. Ez probably needs a nap later, but of course you know that.” Zayn smiles genuinely at Louis.

Louis rolls his eyes – “Of course.” – as he pushes Zayn too the door. “Don’t be late.”

Zayn halts just before exiting as Mezhrad begins sobbing violently, stumpy legs carrying himself to Zayn.

"Mezhrad Javadd Malik, I'm offended," Louis exclaims, grabbing the boy's attention. "We're taking a _bath_ ," Lou's voice lifts at the last few syllables.

In an instant Ezhra's tears have dammed, eyes wide and grin spreading hopefully. His beta _loves_ water, which is kind of ironic considering Zayn is a bit terrified of it – large bodies anyway.

He would be offended that to his beta the prospect of a bath is better than his baba staying, but, yeah, he really should leave. Waving again to his babies he calls, “Seriously, Lou, thank you.”

His best mate acts annoyed, but he can hear the warmth in his voice as he ushers Ezhra to the bathroom. “Don’t forget my latte on your way back.”

**

The aroma of coffee and the coziness of the shop soothes Zayn’s wind-bitten skin as the door chimes his entrance into work. He huffs at the long line in knowing it’ll be a busy day.

When last year Eleanor’s family decided to leave her the family shop, El had seriously considered changing the name from Calder’s Cuppa to Elspresso, but then decided against it with a heavy sigh and a laugh of Zayn’s confidence. He thinks he’ll forever pay for his decision against El with the hours she gives him.

“Zayn!” A usually pleasant female voice barks, “A little help, yeah?”

He gets to work alongside Eleanor, and the line shrinks substantially as he takes her position putting in orders as she begins concocting them. Zayn doesn’t mind the rush; he likes greeting regulars and chatting with coworkers, actually.

Thirty minutes later the flow of people stopping by before work has dwindled to a customer every few minutes. Zayn leaves the front to Carrie as he follows El into the back room.

Zayn whips out his phone, automatically connecting to wifi as he checks his notifications. He and El sit in comfortable silence until he gets a Words With Friends notification, pulling the app open to see that El has challenged him to a game. He just laughs, “You know, we’re quite literally at the same table. We could just play Scrabble.”

Eleanor meets his eyes with a glint of humor in her own, smirk forming “Haven’t quite literally got the board game, have we?”

Zayn just chuckles as he tries to spell out a high-point word on his phone.

When El and Lou broke up, it probably devastated him more than anyone else. They were just alike, always happy together. But now he can see, especially with both of them moved on, that they’re better as best mates. They’re still in love, just a different type.

“You ready for the Halloween party?” El inquires leisurely.

Zayn just groans, hand rubbing over his face. “It means my mum will be in town.” She means well, she does, and Zayn loves her to death, but – “

“Maybe you should just tell her you may be interested in men,” El suggests – not for the first time.

“It’s just that she’s always going on about how her grandchildren need a _motherly_ figure. What would she say if I brought another man into their lives?”

“Oh, pish posh,” El rolls her eyes and waves away the idea, “I am a motherly figure. Plus – let’s just keep this to ourselves – Louis and Harry are feminine enough at times as is.

Zayn snorts along with Eleanor as he nods his head in agreement.

“And anyway,” she adds, “you haven’t found a guy yet, so it’s no worry.”

Zayn huffs nevertheless, standing up, “I should probably stop slacking off at work.”

El raises herself off of her chair and they go back out front, tidying and watching the low sound of an old Audrey Hepburn movie as customers drift in and out. The bright lights of the shop keep him awake as he scoots wooden stools around so he can sweep crumbs off the floor.

The shop is all wooden floors and chalkboards – exactly how a coffee shop should be – but there’s a certain amount of hominess that comes with the environment, the vibe of the place. And he’ll admit his bias is partially due to the art pieces of his raking the walls that pride him whenever there’s a compliment.

Zayn makes to tidy up the lines on the chalk board by the entrance that show the coffee of the day when he’s knocked in the side by the door. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” a low melodic voice rushes as a warm hand steadies him.

Zayn winces, ready to snap at the stranger before looking up. His mouth dries at the sight of a thin white shirt under a leather jacket, low slung jeans tucked into sturdy combat boots. Topped with a lilted fauxhawk and warm eyes filled with apology, Zayn barely manages a “No worries. Happens all the time.”

“No, really,” the man – who looks actually around 22 as well – insists, “I should have been paying attention.”

Zayn’s too busy eyeing outlined muscles under the lad’s shirt and the chain around his neck to answer. Luckily, Eleanor swoops to the rescue by offering the customer a drink.

“Yes, of course,” plump lips form a smile, hand leaving Zayn’s arm as he answers El, “right. I’m so sorry. A bit behind schedule, I wasn’t paying attention – “

“Oh, nonsense,” Eleanor shushes him, “Zayn’s a tough boy. Come over here and let me help you,” she offers politely.

“Right,” he laughs, nodding at Zayn before ambling to the counter.

“Hey, Zayn,” El eyes him when Muscles isn’t watching, “could you help me carry out something from the back?”

Zayn smiles tightly, a little embarrassed at getting caught slobbering over a boy in front of El. He follows her into the back, passing Carrie who calls out that it’s the end of her shift.

Once stopped, Eleanor’s eyes slit at Zayn. “You couldn’t be worse at flirting than a rock, honestly, Z.”

A blush heats his cheek as he stammers, “I wasn’t flirting –“

“Well, obviously,” she cuts off, “you can’t stop staring at him long enough to form a proper sentence.”

Zayn huffs, chooses to ignore Eleanor in favor of grabbing a package of cups and lids from the top rack. Before she can berate him any farther, he’s back in the front replenishing the stash of cups. He awkwardly tugs at his hair as he avoids customer eyes. He’s in desperate need of a smoke.

El pops out a second later. “So,” she catches the man’s attention, “where did you say you were going?”

“Oh, right,” he starts, “meeting up with people. Haven’t met them before, but they’re important to my friend, so…” he trails off.

“Meeting the in-laws, yeah?” El jokes, “is there a special lady?”

“Oh, uh,” he stammers, full cheeks heating, “not quite. I’m not much into girls, actually.” Zayn perks up at that and he swears the man’s eyes glit to him before focusing on El again.

Eleanor eyes the clock, “Oh, shit,” she mouths, “Z, I’ve got to be at the station in twenty minutes. You’ve got it until Dylan comes in, yeah?” she asks, but it’s not actually a question since she’s tugging off her apron and running into the back.

Niall is on the police force, and every once in a while El makes him something up for lunch and surprises him at the station, albeit most of the time it’s rather late.

Before Zayn can move, El’s back with her purse, kissing his cheek and calling out, “I’ll be over at 7:00, Zayn. Don’t be late.”

He offers a small nod and “Yeah, of course” before El is slipping out of the door with a tinkle of the bell. It’s only two and he gets off at five, which really can’t come soon enough, because all he wants to do is go home and nap with Ali and Ezhra. It’s not that he isn’t interested in hanging out with the boys, he just wants to be able to cuddle his babies at home.

“Yes, well,” the ridiculously fit male offers, “I’ve got to go as well.”

“Right,” Zayn pulls out of reverie, “well, I hope you liked the drink. Drop by again.”

The lad pauses as if wanting to say something, but then he offers a tight smile and is walking out of the shop.

Eleanor calls him minutes later, and when he answers she sounds irritated at him: “Gosh, Zayn, I’m guessing you let that guy get away?”

“How’d you know?” Zayn queries.

“Well, you answered the phone, for one. If you could have pulled your head out of your arse to say something he would still be around, wouldn’t he?”

“It’s not that simple,” Zayn counters, already growing impatient at the assault.

Eleanor sighs. “Zayn, I know you were interested. Anyone would be able to tell. Well, except for him maybe, seeing as he couldn’t muster up anything to say to you either.”

“Wait, what?” Zayn demands, partially confused and partially surprised.

“Oh, don’t be daft, Z. He totally digged you.”

Zayn groans, fingers itching for a cig.

“Did you at least get his name?” El questions.

“I’m going,” Zayn huffs as he clicks off. It wouldn’t have worked anyway. Zayn tries to be realistic in reminding himself _I’ve got my family, and they don’t need the confusion of another member. Plus, any man in his right mind would run off at the sight of two kids, at the mess of my life._

**

Zayn leaves work at 5:00 sharp and, once entering Harry’s, makes a beeline for Niall’s bedroom where he knows Ezhra and Ali are napping. Nobody bothers him as he lays with his kids, just watching them snuggle into each other; everyone knows he needs his space, that he gets moody when other people act like they have entitlement to his kids, that he craves time with them alone to confirm that they are, in fact, real.

This is routine by now. Zayn works, and the babies stay at Harry’s until he gets home. Harry, being a photographer, usually has enough time on his hands to watch them on the weekdays when Zayn goes into the shop.

Zayn begins dozing until he hears baby noises and tiny fingers poke his eyes. As he opens them his smile can't be hidden to tell Ali not to poke. Without being told, she presses her open mouth on Zayn’s cheek as if to say I love you. She falls back onto the pillow and stares at Zayn, hands roaming his face.

Zayn prods at her belly until she’s shrieking and Ezhra is shifting around from the noise.

As if waiting for his cue to step in, Niall’s scooping up Ali and holding her high as she squeals with joy. “How’s my baby girl?” Niall talks to Ali goofily, tickling her sides as her cheeks redden with laughter. She’s being carried out of the room into Harry’s lounging area to socialize with the rest of her family before Zayn can blink. “Get up soon, yeah, Z? ‘s already 5:00.”

Zayn murmurs an “Okay.” Yeah, he usually doesn’t like people claiming his kids, but Niall’s like a brother, and he just loves her so much it’s endearing. Plus, he knows Niall’s anxious to have Liam here, and the twins have a way of calming people.

Mezhrad whimpers sleepily at being woken up, on the verge of tears before Zayn pulls him to his chest, hand calming on his back. A few wet tears stain his cheeks before his eyes fall on Zayn and he stops his lazy cries.

“Beta,” Zayn whispers lowly to Ezhra, “I love you.”

He can’t help but be worried by Ez, can’t help but fret that something’s wrong with him. He just gets upset so easily and has barely started blabbering, just ‘baba’ really. Yeah, he’s brilliant with building blocks and people he knows; but still, he’s wary around new company.

“Baba,” Ez coos, tiny fingers in his own mouth. Ezhra seems to mean _stop worrying_.

“Beta,” Zayn smiles, kissing Ez before glancing at the clock – 5:07 – and tucking his son against his chest, carrying him into the lounge.

The boy squirms, reaching out to his behan on a blanket in the middle of the floor surrounded by stuffed animals. Zayn sets him down and he falls onto Ali in an embrace, babbling to her. Ali knows what he’s saying as she echoes the gibberish back.

Zayn pulls out his phone, about to ask El where she is when there’s a knock on the door and Niall and Harry rush over to greet their guest. He can’t see Liam, but his voice is oddly familiar. He gets a peek of the lad as Niall leads him into the kitchen to grab a drink. Liam’s eyes flick around and they meet Zayn’s, and he’s sure Liam’s look of shock mirrors his own as he freezes in his seat, heart thrumming.

Mouth falling open, he jumps off the couch and into the bathroom, locking the door before he leans against it and stares at himself in the mirror. After a bit he splashes his face with water and sends El a text: _His name’s Liam._

No sooner than Zayn sends the text El’s voice is carrying through the apartment. And he can nearly _see_ the interaction of “Oh my God, Liam!”

The new voice pauses and then, “You’re Eleanor then?” a light chuckle.

Zayn opens the bathroom door and looks toward Eleanor, Niall sidling up to her and pulling her into his side. “You know each other?” he asks, clearly confused.

El just laughs, shaking her head a bit distracted. “Yeah, um, he came into the shop earlier today, but I –“

“- had no idea _who_ it was,” Liam finishes her sentence as they both laugh, smiling at each other. He pulls her into a hug after a beat. “Niall’s head over heels.”

El manages a blush, rolling her eyes as Niall’s whole face reddens, trying to change the topic with “So you met Zayn too then?”

And Zayn wishes he hadn’t opened the door, because now all eyes are on him, and he doesn’t know what to do besides stand there like a wanker, forced smile and nod.

“Well, good,” Louis sweeps in, “then sit down, Liam. Z and I will grab your stuff.” 

Zayn makes a mental note to let Louis choose whatever horrible channel he wants for the next week as Lou grabs his arm and tugs him toward the entrance, shaking his head and slapping Liam on the back before Liam can _insist_ that no help is needed. Because of _course_ Liam’s one of those sickeningly polite lads.

For once Louis doesn’t have anything to say to Zayn as they each pull a carry-on over their shoulders, re-entering the apartment and dropping the luggage off in Niall’s room. Louis most likely senses something’s wrong with Zayn, but he just squeezes his arm before joining the group again.

Zayn knows he should go socialize, but instead he sneaks out onto the balcony attached to Niall’s room. The chill in the wind whips at his face, clearing his senses as he picks up the cigarette pack and lighter he leaves just on the rail. Always hoping that they’ll fall over so he’ll have reason to quit for good, he knows he’d just get pissed that he wasted money buying it and would need a smoke to relax him.

Overlooking the city, the lights, the constant rumble below, he feels the urge to paint the scene before him. But he hasn’t painted since the twins were born, so he just puffs on his addiction and imagines the lives below him, what all scenarios are playing out. A bit more relaxed, he stubs out the roach of his cigarette and takes a deep breath before walking back inside.

Louis and Niall have got Liam pinned between them on the couch as they re-tell a joke Zayn’s sure he’s heard before. Harry’s facing them on the floor with a grin on his face, shaking his head in disapproval. Ali has taken to playing with some fancy contraption Louis bought her for her birthday that spits balls out as you put them in. She’s obviously dressed in Harry’s pick: a pinky frilly dress with a bow in her light hair.

“Hey, Z,” Eleanor pulls his attention to the kitchen before anyone notices him.

He slinks silently around the bar blocking the lounge and kitchen off to see El holding Mezhrad, whispering softly to him as he stares at the shine of her scarf with his hands covering his ears.

As soon as El looks to Zayn she begins apologizing profusely, “I’m so sorry, Zayn. I didn’t even think about Ezhra not knowing Liam, and we didn’t think it’d be loud enough to bother him, and –“

“Stop, El,” Zayn soothes her, rubbing a hand over Ezhra’s back, “he’s fine. He loves you,” Zayn smiles.

She chooses to ignore Zayn in favor of, “No, seriously, Zayn, I’m so sorry. No one meant to make anyone uncomfortable.”

“He does it sometimes without reason,” Zayn offers, “he just likes it.”

Niall shouting “Babe!” hinders Eleanor from apologizing further.

“Is he talking to me or you?” Zayn jokes as he takes Mezhrad. “Go help Niall, El. Lord knows he needs it. I’ve got Ez.” He pulls his baby into his arms, miniature dress shirt rumpling along with his chinos.

Eleanor offers a small smile that says she wants to stay and help with Ez, but she knows Zayn won’t let her. “Come back out when you’re both ready. That Liam sure is a looker,” she waggles her eyebrows and winks before walking over to place her acknowledging hand on Niall’s shoulder.

Zayn huffs at El’s comment and presses further into the kitchen, setting Mezhrad on the counter and leaning their foreheads together.

Ezhra refuses to meet Zayn’s eyes, choosing instead to jut out his lower lip and study the ink covering Zayn’s skin.

“What’s up, beta?” he nudges his son with his nose, kissing his forehead. “Did you have a bad day? Did Uncle Lou mistreat my poor baby?” Zayn plays.

At the mention of Louis Ezhra graces Zayn’s face, eyes widening a bit.

“Was he mean to you? Huh? Did he –“ Zayn smiles at Ez, fingers coming to dance over his middle in a tickle, “- not sing to you today?”

Mezhrad begins laughing, too focused on squirming from Zayn to keep his ears covered.

At that Zayn begins singing lowly in Ezhra’s ear, pulling his son to rest his bottom on Zayn’s forearm and his head on Zayn’s shoulder. Another presence in the kitchen startles Zayn as he spins around, eyes falling on Liam.

“Oh, um, sorry,” the man starts, “I was just –“

Zayn watches Liam carefully, trying to keep professional instead of staring at the way his muscles contract under his jacket-free skin. He registers Ezhra shifting on his chest to get a look at Liam

“Are you, like, avoiding me?” Liam spits out.

Zayn’s startled by the question and doesn’t know how to answer, so he just stares wide-eyed at Liam.

“Because,” Liam continues, “I was trying to chat you up earlier today. And I think maybe you knew that, so now you’re avoiding me.”

Face emotionless, Zayn holds tighter to Ezhra when he leans toward Liam, hands opening in a grab.

“And of course,” the man offers, still not able to meet Zayn’s gaze, “If I had known, well – “ his eyes flit to Mezhrad, “- then – “

“If you had known what?” Zayn rushes harshly, “If you had known I had _kids_ you wouldn’t have bothered?” He feels his face heat, Ez whining in his arms.

Liam’s face drops, skin paling as he tries to backtrack. “Oh, God no. No, _no_. If I had known you weren’t into _blokes_ I wouldn’t have bothered. But I mean,” a smile tugs shyly at his lips, eyes meeting Zayn’s, “I knew you were staring at me, so I figured.

Ezhra’s harsh kicks against Zayn force him to look at his son whose eyes are straining to take in Liam.

“But, again,” Liam finishes, “my mistake. So I’ll just, uh –“

Before he can finish, Zayn walks the few feet separating them, not knowing why Ezhra wants the stranger, but not arguing it. He allows his son to grasp at Liam’s thin shirt, pulling himself into his arms.

Liam seems to be at a loss for words as Mezhrad’s cool fingers dance over his inked forearm. “Baba,” Ez coos, left hand reaching for Zayn’s tattoos as he grins at Zayn and looks back to Liam.

Neither able to think of something to say, Liam and Zayn silently watch Ezhra lean his head on Liam’s chest, eyes drooping a bit as he lazily strokes Liam’s etched feather.

“Yeah,” Zayn clarifies after a beat, “I was kind of avoiding you. I don’t know. Not really. Mostly because I couldn’t think of anything to say to you.” He laughs nervously, choosing to speak the words toward Ezhra’s puffy cheeks. Ezhra soothes him, and he knows if he were to look at Liam he’d become an embarrassed stuttering mess. He brings his hand to Ezhra’s back, rubbing to comfort himself more than his son. “And, no,” Zayn confirms, “I’m not really into girls either.”

He knows Liam must be confused considering his confession doesn’t quite match up with the fact that it takes a man and a _woman_ to make a child, but Liam doesn’t say anything, only shifts Mezhrad for a better grip.

“He likes you,” Zayn declares, a bit bolder than before as he catches Liam’s eyes.

The bulkier boy smiles almost bashfully. “Yeah?”

Zayn takes a moment to decipher the exact shade of Liam’s eyes before answering. “Yeah.” And then, “we should probably get back before Niall or Harry throws a fit,” a joking smile covering his face.

Liam nods in agreement, hands moving to offer Mezhrad back to Zayn with, “um…”

The tiny boy lets out a displeased noise, face contorting as his hands fist in Liam’s shirt.

Zayn is a bit put off by his son’s actions, but plays it off as he laughs, “I don’t think it’s much up to me, is it? Come on.” He starts back into the lounge.

Unfortunately, El catches his eye before he takes a seat in the armchair and she smirks at him, which causes his cheeks to flame.

Liam claims the end of the plush couch in efforts to keep it quiet for a sleepy Mezhra. His son is held diagonally against the expanse of Liam’s chest, head where arm meets chest.

Zayn gulps, forcing himself to dive into conversation because he should _not_ feel his innards stir at the fact that Liam’s one thick arm is enough to hold Ezhra in place.

"No, Niall," Harry corrects with a goofy smile spreading over his face, "I believe you're, in fact, wrong seeing as I scored the winning goal." 

Niall snorts. Literally snorts as he exclaims "That was pure luck!" 

"Okay, then - Louis," Harry slinks onto Louis’ lap on the red couch, arms wrapping around his neck, "you tell us who could give you a run for your money." 

"Oi!" Niall groans, "That's cheating, Haz; you're playing his favorite!" 

Niall and Harry are sort of a package deal what with being childhood best mates. When Louis befriended Niall on campus Harry came with him.

It was a bit funny how it worked out, because whilst Louis was having laughs with a mystery blonde, Zayn was unknowingly serving coffee to the blonde’s counterpart. Weeks later when Zayn just _had_ to meet Niall (as per Louis’ insistence), they all had a good laugh at Zayn recognizing Harry and Niall being confused as to how. 

Three years later and finally out of uni, all four have grown too close to let go of each other. 

Zayn smirks to himself as he watches Harry lean into Louis, a light arm thrown around his waist as he laughs into Lou’s shoulder. Louis falls into Harry as well, neither making to separate once the joke has passed.

If one didn’t know any better, they’d assume Louis and Harry were together, two peas in a pod. But Zayn does know better. He knows that Louis is too hard on himself, that he thinks he’d be a terrible boyfriend. Yeah, if Louis used the “I’m too busy for a relationship” excuse Zayn would buy it, because Louis is busy, especially since signing with Manchester United. But it’s off season, and Zayn can see the warmth in Harry’s eyes as he watches Louis talk. And he knows both Harry and Louis deserve to admit to themselves their feelings. 

The duo of Niall and Louis demand his attention as they rile Ali up, her giggles infectious as she seeks protection in Eleanor’s arms. “That’s right,” El boasts, ”My sweet girl may mess around with you” – her eyes slit through Louis and Niall –“but she’ll always come crawling back to me.”

“Oi!” Louis scoffs, “who do you love, Ali girl?”

His daughter’s grin curves cheekily as if she knows exactly what’s going on before she squeals “El!”

Eleanor lights up with delight, mouth falling open as she nearly shouts, “Third! I’m her third name.”

Louis only rolls his eyes. “Please, doll, you’re still behind me.”

El chooses to ignore Louis and instead coos “yes, that’s right.” to Ali.

As conversation switches to newer topics Zayn zones out, instead making a mental list of things he needs to do for his Saturday: grocery store, writing a bit so his editor doesn’t kill him, scheduling a meet with Ali’s pediatrician because she seems to be developing an ear infection…

“Baba,” his sweet girl calls out, reaching for Zayn.

He just smiles a “Beti” as Ali crawls over laps to get to her Baba, Louis at the end of the couch handing her off to Zayn. She positions herself facing the action, back pressed to Zayn as his hand covers her tummy to hold her in place. At some point she had insisted her dress be taken off, choosing instead socks and diaper. Zayn’s hand rubs over her warm stomach, laughing to himself at the bow still in her curly locks.

Every so often his gaze flicks to Mezhrad in Liam’s arms, snoozing away. He tries not to like the sight of them together.

Zayn feels himself yawning not thirty minutes after Ali finds her way to him. Checking the time – 10:27 –, he calls it a night. “’m sorry, lads. Long day tomorrow, and it’s past their bedtime.” He makes to stand up, readjusting a knocked out Ali against his chest as he grabs up her dress from the floor.

Liam stands up and Harry begins to protest, but Liam only offers, “I had an early flight. Besides, Zayn could probably use some help carrying this baby.” He eyes Zayn almost apologetically, wondering if the boundaries were tested with his offered help.

“Thanks, Liam,” is all Zayn gives up, smiling to everyone as he gestures for Liam to follow him toward the exit.

“Back in a bit,” Liam calls out before closing the door and following Zayn into his apartment.

Once in his own flat, Zayn suddenly feels awkward. His place is messier than Harry’s. Less bright, more homey. “If you wanna, uh, undress Mezhrad and put him on my bed that’ll be fine,” he jerks his head toward his bedroom.

Liam follows Zayn into the room, stripping Ezhra down to his diaper before folding the clothes and placing them on Zayn’s dresser beside Ali’s dress. “You sure you don’t want me to put those up?”

“Oh, no,” Zayn insists, “it’s fine. I’ll get to it tomorrow.”

Liam nods, glancing out Zayn’s sliding glass doors and shifting on his feet. “Right, well.”

“Thanks, again, Liam.”

Liam nods and turns back to the door, stopping just before returning to Harry’s with “Goodnight, Zayn.”

And then he’s gone and the events of the day hit Zayn as if sleep can’t come fast enough. He strips off his shirt and pants, letting them slag to the floor. Pillows are lined against Mezhrad’s back so he doesn’t roll off the bed. Taking his place on the right side of the bed, Ali between him and Ez, sleep knocks him out cold.


	2. Milk Isle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meltdowns are a common occurrence before Louis's Halloween party.

**L**

_The sun is just about below the distant mountains, sky a lovely orange. He’s laughing with Andy and Jeremy, joking about nonsensicals when there’s a _BANG_ and smoke is in the air. He can’t see, can’t breathe, but the colors surrounding him are morphing from lazy orange to bright red. And he has to put out the flames licking up his leg but they just get _ hotter _and he’s trying to scream out for help, for his mates, but he’s choking on smoke until his body can’t take it anymore and he’s passing out, vision going blurry and then black._

Liam jerks awake, left leg burning so hot he can’t breathe. And he’s tumbling out of bed, hobbling on his right leg because he knows he can’t use his left. He _knows_ he can’t use his left leg, and angry tears sting his eyes as he throws the sliding door open to Niall’s balcony. Temperature numbing him to the core, his leg is even still killing his nerves. Leaning aginst the rails of the overhang, Liam _forces_ himself to look down at his left leg, forces himself to imagine it perfectly intact. He swears to God he’ll jump to his death to end the pain.

After what could be hours, his leg goes as numb as the rest of his body. And at the relief, at the self-loathing he has toward himself for being weak, he lets sharp gasps rip from his throat, hot tears burning his frozen cheeks.

Hopping back inside because he can’t trust his left leg, Liam carefully perches at the end of Niall’s bed. With elbows on his knees and hands fisted around the dogtag gracing his neck, he can’t fool his mind into forgetting his dream. Because even though it _was_ a dream, Andy was too real. The setting was too similar to his vivid memories.

And what pisses him off most, what scares him most, is that he doesn’t want to lose the memories. He can’t lose them. It’s all he has left. But even with the memories there’s nothing to him. He’s a hollowed out ragdoll and he can’t stand to be in his own head.

He eventually moves to the bathroom, jerking the shower on before sloppily pulling off his black briefs and sitting down in the tub, letting the light pressure of water soothe his aching muscles. There was never much rain in the desert.

**

Liam sputters awake, mouth filling with cold water and fingers pruned. He hears his name being called, Harry’s voice worried. How long had he been asleep?

“Yeah?” He winces as his voice croaks. His hands fumble with the shower handle before cutting off the stream of ice. 

“I’m heading off to my studio,” Harry pauses, “do you wanna go?” 

Liam, still out of it, takes a moment to process Harry’s offer before his heart falls. Harry can’t see him like this. “Um, actually,” Liam answers, “I was hoping to just catch a bit more sleep.” By now he’s stood up, pulling the curtain open to grab the closest towel he can find. 

Harry’s voice carries through the bathroom door: “Okay, well, Louis is at footie practice and Niall got called into the station. Feel free to get Zayn if you need anything, yeah?” 

Liam closes his eyes, concentrates on keeping balance in both stance and voice with “of course.” He wraps the towel around his waist and opens the door separating him and Harry, bright smile tight on his face. 

Harry is a bit startled at Liam’s appearance, but smiles back genuinely anyway. “I won’t be gone too long. Just some film needing developed.” 

Liam really does adore Harry. He’s missed him. “I can’t wait to see it.” 

“Well, thank you, Liam,” Harry makes to enter the lounge and Liam follows, “now, you’re sure you’ve got everything?” 

Liam shakes his head, half smile on his face, “Yes, Harold. I’m good.” 

“Again, Zayn’s right beside us. Fair warning, though, he can be snappy in the mornings,” Harry trails off before coming back to, “Anyway, bye.” He offers a wave before he’s out of the apartment

**

And Liam hadn’t actually planned on going next door, but for the love of God a man’s got to eat, and Harry forgot to mention he lives off of cereal. So he’s knocking on Zayn’s door, waiting a good three minutes before it’s jerked open roughly.

And Liam hadn’t actually planned on forgetting how to breathe, but Zayn’s in front of him looking half asleep, raven hair tousled wildly, limp over his forehead. And he can’t help his eyes falling over his colored skin, standing out tan in contrast with his white boxer briefs. And both their faces flush as they avoid eye contact, Zayn hiding behind the door. 

“Sorry –“ Liam starts, eyes flinting from the ground to Zayn, “um I didn’t mean to wake you up or anything.” 

Zayn shakes his head, eyes still foggy as if he isn’t quite registering the exchange, “No, you’re fine.” He juts his chin behind him, “I was just feeding my kids.” There’s a beat of silence before Zayn’s opening the door, “right, come in. Do you need anything?” 

Liam steps into Zayn’s apartment in an embarrased manor, hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “I actually just couldn’t find anthing to eat. And Harry left earlier so…” he doesn’t know what else to say.

Zayn nods his head slowly. “Right, well, we were just in the kitchen,” his eyes flick in their direction, “make yourself comfortable. I’ll just, uh, get dressed.” 

Liam chuckles roughly, “Thanks,” before Zayn’s in his room and Liam walks into the kitchen hoping his presence doesn’t bother the twins. 

Ali stares at him wide-eyed for a moment or two before she’s grinning, arms bouncing up and down at the familiar face. Her sippy cup starts a tumbling freefall for the ground as it’s knocked off her highchair tray. Liam snatches the cup up before it hits the ground and places it back by Ali, the girl never noticing it’s absence in her excited babbling. 

“Nice hands,” Zayn reveres as he enters the kitchen making to wipe at the oatmeal on his daughter’s face. 

Liam can’t keep his cheeks from heating even as he realizes Zayn was referring to his reflexes and not his actual hands. 

Once Zayn’s finished cleaning Ali’s face and hands with a wet rag he steps to the left and proceeds to do the same to Ezhra. 

Liam watches the way Zayn’s black skinny jeans hug his thighs, and – okay – he should _not_ like the way Zayn’s black v-neck dips to reveal a wings and lips tattoo. Liam’s eyes fall on Ali, belatedly realizing she’s trying to say something, arms outstretched toward him. 

Zayn seems to notice Ali too as he glances over his shoulder at Liam. “You wanna hold her?” 

Liam smiles at Zayn in wanting to make the little girl happy but sincerely doubting his ability to do so. Even so, he hitches his hands under Ali’s arms and lifts her carefully onto his hip. Pleased gurgles leave her mouth as she sucks her juice, and they watch her dad clean up the mess in the kitchen. Tiny hands squeeze his forearm occassionaly, and he can’t decide if it’s more calming to her or himself. 

“So,” Zayn starts, “We were just about to go to the grocery store. You can come with us if you’d like.” Ezhra is placed lightly on his hip. 

Liam starts in protest, but before he can Zayn is smiling lightly. “Seriously, Liam. You would be a lot of help.” 

He wants to go, but at the same time he doesn’t want to intrude. But he can only see sincerity in Zayn’s warm eyes, so he nods once, shuffling Ali on his hip. 

“Great,” Zayn makes for the second room in his apartment to the right of his own, “help me get them dressed, yeah?”

**Z**

Getting everyone in the car and to the store had been all fine and dandy, but as soon as Liam’s out of the passenger seat undoing Ali from her car seat Zayn wishes he had never invited Liam along. Because of the grey joggers riding so low on Liam’s hips, the way his snapback perches on his head, the way his long-sleeve fits just loose enough around his upper-body. Because Zayn is having trouble concentrating and he _swears_ if Liam bends over he’ll develop a semi nobody in a family-orientated store could forgive.

Zayn makes sure to walk directly beside Liam so as not to get caught checking out his backside. Through the automatic doors he stops at a cart to fit Ezhra into the groove for small children. 

Liam steps forward to place Ali beside him, but as Ezhra sees that she’s about to be beside him his face goes red and he begins making noises of protest. Liam pauses with Ali hanging over the cart. ”Um…” he glances between Zayn and Ezhra, unsure of what’s going on. 

Zayn places his hand on Mezhrad’s cheek and instructs Liam to try again in hopes that it’s not one of _those_ days. Ali is, once again, being placed into the cart when Ezhra seizes up and begins screaming wildly. Before five seconds can go by Liam is tucking Ali back under his arm, taking a few steps back, and Ezhra quiets at the absence, a measly tear sticking just below his stormy blue eyes. 

And Zayn is conflicted with emotions. Gratitude and awe toward Liam at taking care of it so easily, worry and fright at why Mezhrad, even on his best days, sometimes pushes his own family away, pity for his daughter who knows that her bhai doesn’t want her but not knowing why, embarrassment for all of them as disturbed glances are thrown their way, and anger toward himself because he _knows_ he shouldn’t be embarrassed in even the slightest of his family, and because he should know what’s _wrong_ with Mezhrad, his beta, but he doesn’t. And he knows he’s good at hiding emotions, but for some reason Liam can see through his mask at least a bit, which makes him want to push Liam away. 

And that’s why he’s equally grateful for and wary of Liam when he cheerfully announces, “Well, Ali and I can take this cart.” He places Zayn’s beti down in the one he’s just pulled out before continuing, “I actually need to pick up something for Harry’s, so I’ll meet you by the milk in five, yeah?” Liam’s smile is so easy, as if he didn’t just witness Zayn’s facade of calm, cool, and collected crack. 

And usually Zayn wouldn’t let Ali out of his sight with a near stranger, wouldn’t even let someone just _expect_ that they’re able to carry around _his_ child, but he doesn’t want Liam to see him right now. He needs some time with Mezhrad, and Ali likes Liam anyway. And if Niall and Harry trust Liam, so does Zayn. So he nods with a tight smile, unable to meet Liam’s eyes. He doesn’t even cheat himself to stare at Liam’s arse as he strolls off. 

Zayn sighs, places his hands firmly on the cart handle, and pushes forward to the refrigerated section. Mezhrad won’t meet his eyes and his bottom lip is in a pout, snot running down his mouth. On the way to the milk Zayn picks up a box of tissues and swipes at Ezhra’s nose with it. 

Luckily, the back right corner of the store is empty of onlookers. Since he figures Mezhrad just needs a moment to calm down he takes the time to schedule an appointment to check out Ali’s ear. A little bit before he hangs up the airconditioning kicks on and Ezhra begins groaning, hands coming up to cover his ears. 

“Yes, thank you,” Zayn rubs his beta’s back while he confirms Ali’s appointment, “8:00am, Monday the 2nd. Okay. Bye.” 

All Zayn can do is pull Ezhra out of the cart and into his chest, one hand on his neck and the other supporting his backside. After a few moments of rocking Ez Liam pulls back around. 

The first thing Zayn takes note of is Ali’s exuberant mood, and then Liam’s sheepish face. “Yeah, um,” Liam looks a bit nervous, hand rubbing the back of his neck, “we kind of passed the toy isle, and, well,” Liam gestures to a heap of pink sparkly material on Ali’s lap, her hands fisting it tightly. “And she saw it, and I said _no_ , but then she started _crying_ , and I didn’t want her to hate me, so I –“ 

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” Zayn interjects, surprising both himself and Liam. Shit. Shit. _Shit_ is all he processes as he looks down. And it shouldn’t _mean_ anything. He says stuff like that to the lads all the _time_ , but he knows it’s different. And he doesn’t know what to do. 

But then Ali’s calling out Baba to him and the first thing he thinks to say is “If it weren’t for that damned Harry shoving all those princess dresses down her throat it wouldn’t be a problem.” He’s grateful Ez’s ears are still covered. 

Liam lets out a shaky yet genuine laugh and it seems they unanimously decided to let Zayn’s compliment pass as he justifies the outfit. “Well, it is Halloween, so I mean.” 

And then it clicks that _today is Halloween_ and he has Louis’ party to go to, and he really just wants to sleep. “ _Fuck_ ,” he sees Liam’s hands jerk to cover Ali’s ears and almost laughs, “Are you going to Louis’ team party? I haven’t even got a costume…” Zayn groans and takes a hand away from Ezhra to pinch the bridge of his nose, pacing in the goddamn milk isle. 

Zayn is honestly startled by the large, warm palm in the middle of his back, and Liam’s voice so close makes him a little dizzy. “Yes, I’m going to the party, and I haven’t quite settled on a costume either. It will all be fine. We can even go find you one if you want.” 

“I’ll go, but I won’t dress up,” Zayn finalizes “My mother has the babies tonight, so they’ll need costumes.” He can _feel_ the gloom cloud he’s casting over the area. 

Liam drops his hand and shrugs, looking toward Ali, “At least Ali already has hers.” An evident attempt at lightening the mood. 

Zayn just watches him for a moment, studies the steady, dark eyes and hard jaw of the other boy before laughing, “Yes. There’s that.” 

And after that they’re back to strictly food shopping, pausing every once in a while to question the other’s pick playfully, because _no - Zayn doesn't like fruity poptarts_ , and _yes - Liam drinks his coffee black._

Once they’ve agreed that a ninja turtle costume for Ezhra would be cutest between that and a pumpkin they check out and get settled back in the car. 

“So, what exactly is this party like?” Liam questions. 

Zayn grunts and shakes his head. “Louis’ team getting slightly drunk. Fans trying to get in. Sometimes gets publicity. It’s a yearly thing and, honestly, I can’t usually bother myself with it, but I promised Louis, so…” 

“Louis seems like a good guy,” Liam comments. 

“He’s a royal jackass is what he is,” Zayn huffs. 

The taller boy shakes his head and laughs in disapproval. “What’s got you in a bad mood?” 

“Is it that evident?” Zayn questions Liam, one hand on the wheel, eyes flicking to Liam. 

“Well, I mean…” 

“I’m sorry,” Zayn sighs, “I’m meant to be a pleasant host. I’m sorry you didn’t manage to get stuck with someone more your taste.” 

“More my taste? What’s that supposed to mean?” Liam sounds genuinely curious. 

“Oh, you know,” Zayn waves his free hand about, “mostly someone a bit more kipper and kind to keep up with yourself. Someone who doesn't sulk through the supermarket.” 

Liam lets out a snort and leans his head against the window, arms folded over the expanse of his chest. 

Nothing more can be made of the exchange because they arrive at their flats, and both babies wake up, cranky from too short of a nap and they’re too busy juggling kids and groceries. 

Up the stairs to his flat Zayn is bragging about his hauling skills when he unlocks his door and it falls open to reveal his mother. 

“Oh, don’t look so surprised, Zayn,” his mum teases, heels clacking her way to meet Zayn and wrap her arms around him and Mezhrad.

Zayn leans into her, eyes wide. He feels like she’s caught him with his hand in the cookie jar – Liam being the cookie – even though there’s no rational reasoning for him to feel this way.

Stepping back he’s at a loss for words, but his mum smiles warmly toward Liam as she sends out her hand in a friendly gesture. “I’m Tricia, Zayn’s mum.”

Zayn notes the way Liam smiles brightly, hand extending as he answers, “Right. I’m Liam, a friend of a friend.” The way Liam squeezes Ali just a smidge tighter to his chest lets Zayn know Liam is nervous, and for some reason it calms his own nerves.

“Oh!” the woman’s face lights up knowingly, “you finally arrived? The boys have been talking about you for quite some time. I’d have assumed Niall fancied you if he weren’t already engaged,” she jokes.

As Liam’s face heats and he ducks his head slightly Zayn saves him from what he knows would end up being an unintelligible mumbled response. “How long have you been here, mum?”

Tricia makes baby faces at Ezhra as he giggles and reaches for her, her warm embrace and sweet smell making his beta overly happy. “Not too long,” she spins around whilst kissing Ezhra on her hip, walking toward the living room where a diaper bag is laid beside a duffel on the coffee table, “just long enough to start a load of laundry and pack up the twins’ things.”

Zayn almost weeps with joy at her mention of starting his ridiculous load of dirty clothes in the wash, but then Ali makes noises of complaint in wanting her dadi, and Liam’s face goes from bashful to worried, and he just wants the near stranger to be happy too.

“Liam,” he calls gently as he grabs Ali, meeting Liam’s confused eyes, “help me put some of the groceries away, yeah?” his left thumb rubs at Liam’s side and he worries that it looks and feels intimate, but Liam doesn’t seem to notice as he sinks into the touch slightly before nodding his head and licking his lips with a short “yeah, of course” in response.

The wider boy awkwardly grabs at the groceries that have landed on the floor and stalks into the kitchen out of sight before Zayn turns back into the living room, handing a whining girl off to his mum as she takes the gift in stride. She doesn’t seem to have noticed his brief exchange with Liam.

And he can’t help but notice the way his mum has a calming effect on his babies, the way they’re so giddy around her, the way she’s so good with him. And maybe they _do_ need a motherly figure instead of a fatherly. And his stomach twists with guilt, because he just _doesn’t like girls_ in that way.

“That Liam is _too_ cute, Zaynie,” she interrupts her son’s thoughts, “has he got a girlfriend? Kids? “ she muses.

“No, Mum. Neither,” his voice wavers, a question laced into his response.

“Oh,” she smiles at Zayn, bag slung over her arm, “well I’ve got to get back home. Your Baba is expecting us.”

Zayn can’t think to say anything as he follows her back to the front door.

Just before they exit Liam’s head is popping out of the kitchen. “Oh, Tricia,” he starts a bit bashfully, “we picked up costumes for Ez and Ali.”

Both babies perk up at their names, and so does Tricia as she looks to Zayn disbelievingly before turning her gaze to Liam once again. “That’s wonderful! I’ve been trying to convince this boy,” she nudges her son, “that they’d be so cute at the neighbor’s party with a costume like the rest of the kids.” 

Zayn is handed Mezhrad as Tricia makes to hug Liam in thanks. He attempts to avoid Liam’s touched gaze, but can’t manage it when Ali latches onto Liam’s shirt, drawing herself in to place her open mouth sloppily on his sharp chin.

“Oh, that’s so sweet, Poti,” she coos to Ali, “Can you tell Liam ‘bye-bye’?”

And before Zayn can sigh in annoyance because his mum _knows _Ali hasn’t said much besides a few names, his beti’s babbling out something that sounds a lot like “Baba”, and his heart seizes up because he doesn’t know if she means to tell Liam ‘bye’ or to call him her father. And he doesn’t know which he’d rather have.__

__Liam glances to Zayn as if he doesn’t know quite what she means either, but Zayn steadfastly ignores Liam’s eyes in favor of “I’ll be right at the car, Mum. Just let me grab the costumes.”_ _

__Tricia goes along with it as she waves to Liam and carries Ali and the bags out the door._ _

__Liam turns around deeper into the kitchen to grab the bag holding the costumes, and Zayn uses both hands to hold his beta to him._ _

__“Right, well,” Liam stands in front of Zayn and locks eyes with Ezhra who hadn’t looked away since Liam said his name whilst talking to Tricia. He reaches his hand out to rub at Ezhra and Zayn automatically closes the space between them, Ezhra flush with both of their chests to give Liam more room to say goodbye to him._ _

__His eyes flicker up to Zayn with “Your mum seems wonderful,” and settle on Ezhra as he rushes out “I didn’t mean for her to – like – think we’re involved or anything –“_ _

__Zayn jerks slightly in confusion, cutting Liam off. “She doesn’t know I like blokes. Why would she think we’re involved?” he questions, sincerely confused._ _

__Liam is at a loss for words for a few seconds before color comes back to his face. “Right, no – I didn’t mean anything. Just in case, you know” – he tugs up a smile and looks Zayn in the eye –“um, yeah. Well, here are the costumes.” And as if he doesn’t know what to do he ghosts the back of his hand over Ezhra’s cheek before tittering to the door, holding it open for Zayn to exit._ _

__As Zayn makes his way to the lift he can hear Liam fiddling around with Harry’s door lock before finally opening it. Mezhrad doesn’t break his gaze over Zayn’s shoulder even after Liam is out of view._ _

__Upon coming up to his mum’s crossover he plans to just see them off, but he can’t stop himself from asking, “Why did you think Liam had kids?”_ _

__Tricia just smiles, seemingly unfazed. “He seems taken with the twins, and not awkward around them like most people are with children at first. He just came off as paternal, he did.”_ _

__Zayn doesn’t comment, just opens the back door and settles Ezhra into his car seat before leaning over to kiss Ali with an “I love you, beti” and “I love you, beta” before going around to the driver’s side and sticking his head through the window to kiss his mother’s cheek._ _

__The smile he’s receiving melts his core, images of _Bradford_ and _food_ and _love_ overwhelming him as he recalls the acceptance and respect radiating from his parents when they first met the twins, of the laughter in his sisters’ eyes when they began coddling the babies._ _

__Tricia confides just after exchanging sentiments: “And Zayn, I wouldn’t mind seeing Liam’s face again.”_ _

__Zayn just smiles curtly, hands in his pockets. He doesn’t even try to decipher the look she gives him._ _

____

**

Zayn actually gets a decent amount of ideas pressing the back of his mind sketched in the hours between 2:00 and 6:00 pm before he showers and dresses for Louis’ party. He’s ready by 7:00, but Harry’s already with Louis to help set up for the party or summat, so he just drabbles around his flat. By the time it’s 9:00 he’s got all of his laundry done, two episodes of The Office (US) watched, and a few superheroes sketched to go along with Anthony’s sequel.

The graphic novel is a glorified depiction of an orphaned making it big time, much like Anthony’s own life. More specifically, the antagonist is born parentless into a facility running experiments on a new breed of human, a stronger elite. Said character breaks out of the facility and eventually shuts the corruption down. The sequel itself is to work on the angle of after the shutdown, of the character trying to fit into society and save it a bit more each day.

By the time he pulls up to one of the football stars’ houses he has a migraine and an itch for a smoke. And as he walks in it he realizes that they meant for a legitimate Halloween costume party.

Green, orange, and purple strobe lights bounce off the walls in time with some upbeat Top 40s he can’t think to name. A bit self-conscious he checks out what he’s wearing again: black boots and jeans, a white shirt, and a leather jacket. In the very least he could say he’s a greaser.

He follows the crowd of zombies, housemaids, Spocks, until he spies Louis dressed in his footie uniform – original – and sidles up to him, arm slinging over his shoulder.

“Zaayyn,” Louis drawls, clearly having had a few drinks already, “You made it, babe!” Louis places a sickeningly sloppy kiss to his cheek – one that would even rival Ali’s – and giggles rather girlishly, gulping down another mouthful of a beer that’s in his right hand.

It’s then that Zayn lands eyes with Harry. Harry whose eyes are dark and whose face is a bit scary locked on Louis like that. And oh _God_ Harry saw Louis kiss Zayn and he just does _not_ have time for drunk pining Harry and drunk sloppy Louis.

He hears before he sees Niall in the corner, game of ping-pong halfway through. And Niall is near pissed. Like, Niall can hold his liquor, but he’s utterly _pissed_ already and it’s only – what – 9:30?

While Louis tries to tell a story to the group around them – some teammates, but mostly unrecognizable faces – Zayn takes the time to survey the crowd. With a few colleges within the area he imagined he’d see some younger faces, but he didn’t expect to see what looks like _sixteen year olds_. And honestly, Zayn is so over it, the college partying, but he takes the time to find the humor in it, because Niall is a _cop_ for God’s sake.

At that moment Harry pulls up beside Zayn and offers his greeting. Zayn slaps his back and steps away, watching Louis take Harry to where Zayn had been, Lou near licking Harry’s face before Zayn turns to spot Eleanor on the deck with a bunch of girls giggling over champagne.

Instead of offering greeting to El Zayn just starts “If your fiance wakes me up tonight with his incessant laughing your ass is mine.”

Eleanor dismisses the playful banter with a wave of her hand. “Oh, let him have his fun. What are you supposed to be, then? This is a costume party, Z.”

Zayn rolls his eyes and snatches El’s drink from her, sipping down the liquid and bracing for a sting that never comes – because it’s water. “I guess you could ask yourself the same thing, doll.”

“Pregnant.” El shrugs, laughing at one of her friend’s jokes.

“Oh, is that what the water’s for, then? Does it quite top off your costume?”

Eleanor laughs, shaking her head. “Where’s Niall?”

Zayn leads her back into the house after her girls see her off, and they make their way to the new round of beer pong Niall is playing, obviously having made his way into the championships. As soon as Niall spots El he’s swooping her into his chest, arm hooked around her waist as his lips smash to hers, so intentional and sweet he has to look away.

But then his eyes fall on Louis and Harry, and Harry has his arm around Lou’s waist as well, whispering something into Lou’s ear that makes him giggle, most likely from both Harry’s lips tickling his ear and the actual words.

And it’s funny, it is. The way Niall and El show their love by occasional deep kisses and the ring on her finger while Harry and Louis look like best mates that are ever-touching and maybe just a bit too comfortable with sneaky kisses. It’s funny, because both duos are so infatuated with each other, but only one can own up to their feelings.

“Yeah,” a rough voice beside Zayn makes him jump a bit, “in high school Harry wasn’t quite sure about what sex he preferred, or who he preferred, more specifically. I suspected pansexual, honestly, because he falls in love with _personalities_ not bodies.”

And Zayn can’t make much of the commentary because _Liam_. In tight black jeans and boots. A bulky belt and goddamn muscle shirt with the Batman emblem across his pecks. And a goddamn _cape_ topping it off, shape in direct contrast with the triangle of Liam’s body. And he can’t open his mouth, because he can’t trust himself not to whimper ‘ _Daddy_ ’, so he clamps his mouth shut and squeezes his lids closed, but Liam’s _talking _again and –__

__“It’s funny, isn’t it? I mean, I had suspicions about Harry and Louis, so I asked Harry about it. About Louis. How good of friends they are. And he just said that they’re close.” And then, “Zayn? Zayn? You okay?” Liam’s thick palm rests on Zayn’s bicep._ _

__With a mixture of self-discipline and Niall’s interruption, Zayn is able to open his eyes to Niall who _thank Great God Almighty _pulls Liam’s attention to him in order to introduce some people.___ _

____Even before Zayn looks to Eleanor he’s expecting a greasy smirk on her lips and cheeky comment, but all he sees is her guffawing, mouth and eyes wide as her shoulders slump forward slightly._ _ _ _

____“Erm, El? You alright?” he asks a bit worriedly._ _ _ _

____She slowly shakes her head, huffing in realization of something Zayn hasn’t quite caught up to yet. “I mean – I thought – Zayn, Oh my God, it’s _pathetic_.”_ _ _ _

____And just like that Zayn is _so_ over her entire being, face contorting in a mock-laugh as he rolls his eyes, arms crossing over his chest._ _ _ _

____“No, no,” El grab’s Zayn’s forearm for his eyes, “I’m sorry, Zayn. It’s just that at the shop I was hoping for you to flirt with Liam to, y’know, hop back on the wagon. Not exactly hop on his _dick_ , but hey, if you’re ready, then –“_ _ _ _

____“ _What_ ever are you talking about, Eleanor?” Zayn snips, slightly confused, as if two steps behind El’s train of thought._ _ _ _

____“Oh, Z,” El pats his arm lovingly, “you’re practically like Haz and Lou now with denial. I mean, look at your _dick_ , babe,” she tuts._ _ _ _

____And Zayn’s too offended by the Harry and Louis analogy until he _does_ look down at his dick and it’s _hard. Shit_. He had gotten a semi just _looking_ at Liam and didn’t even _notice_._ _ _ _

____And screw the party. Zayn is shoving his way through the crowd, willing his prick to soften as he gets into his car and drives back to his flat. By the time he’s walking through his door his dick is no longer plumped, but he allows no chances by taking a cold shower._ _ _ _

____And he doesn’t feel bad about skipping out on the party. Because he hadn’t wanted to go in the first place, but at least he showed. And Louis has Harry to distract him, and Niall has El. And _fuck_ Liam for being so annoyingly nice and naturally good-looking. He doesn’t need that shit in his life. He’s happy just where he’s at, and he doesn’t need some friend of a friend swooping in to playing with his kids and inadvertently turn him on with his jawline. He doesn’t need Liam because he’s happy as is, happy as he’ll ever be._ _ _ _

____And despite the absence of his kids and moodiness from losing control of himself, he’s drifting off to sleep._ _ _ _

______ _ _

**

Zayn registers doors opening and closing and muffled giggles that are still too loud, and he tries to ignore them in favor of sinking back into his warm bed, but he can’t. So he grumbles as he stretches onto his back, fingers scratching over his taught stomach, reveling in the softness of his mattress before he’s jerking off the bed and tugging joggers and a hoodie on, sliding out onto his balcony.

He slumps into his fold-out chair, digging in the pocket to pull out a lighter and pack of Marlboro’s before lighting up and inhaling deep, nicotine rushing to his head. One, two, three hits before he feels himself calm, and then he opens his eyes to the city before him, traffic pretty heavy for what he guesses is a bit past midnight. The lights and noises draw him in to where he doesn’t even hear another door sliding open and garbled curses from his right.

What he _does_ hear is “Zayn?” from a voice he’s already too familiar with.

Zayn looks over to Harry’s balcony, and his eyes land on Liam. From what he can make out all he’s got on is sweats. “Damn, Liam, you’re gunna get hypothermia!”

“What? Oh, yeah,” he looks down at himself, voice softening a bit self-consciously, “I like the cold, actually.”

Zayn is past manners at this time of night, especially considering noise from the flat Liam’s staying in woke him up. “You’re fucking insane, man.” He takes a long drag and holds it in as long as he can before exhaling.

“I guess I could say the same thing about you, Zayn. I mean, do you _want_ cancer?” Liam quips defensively, a bit intimidatingly even though there’s a tinge of kicked puppy in his tone.

Zayn wasn’t trying to offend Liam, but now that he has he feels bad. And on top of that, Liam’s retort had just the right level of authority, and Zayn should _not_ be turned on by that. All Zayn knows is it’s too _late_ for this.

His left hand rubs over his faces whilst his right fingers flick the ash off the end of his cigarette. He stands up and takes just a step to lean against the side of the railing which faces him to the left of Harry’s balcony, a mere two feet of air between the two overhangs. “Liam.”

He can’t make out the other boy’s face, but the lights behind Liam fan out around him and make his silhouette stand dark even against the night. And Liam’s walking toward Zayn’s voice. He comes to a stop at the left corner of Harry’s balcony, facing out while Zayn studies his left side, the shape of his nose, the curve of his arse, and “I’m sorry. It’s just…” He tugs at his limp hair, lungs inhaling the last of his cigarette.

Zayn thinks Liam’s ignoring him and instead watching the city below, but then he turns his head toward Zayn with “Did I offend you? Earlier at the party.”

“What? No. Why would you think that?” He shakes his head, stubbing out his dead cigarette and tossing it in a can.

“Well, one minute I was talking to you about Harry and Louis, and I turn my back for a second,” Liam’s holds his thumb and forefinger so close together to make his point, and it’s undeniably cute the way he uses his hands to talk, “and you’re gone. And now you’re out here taking the piss out of me.” He looks away again, and Zayn just wants to see his face, but he continues rambling, “And I’m sorry if I overstepped with talking about our friend’s, but I just figured –“

“Yeah, no,” Zayn cuts him short, “I don’t quite remember what you said about them, but it didn’t bother me. Just” – he’s instantly thankful for the darkness, because he flushes with – no pun intended – “something came up.”

“Oh, okay.” Liam tugs at the back of his neck – something Zayn’s picked up on as a nervous habit.

“But, seriously, Liam,” Zayn urges Liam’s eyes to meet his with little result, “put a coat on or something. What are you doing out here, anyway?”

And Zayn doesn’t have to be in full daylight to know that Liam’s cheeks are red as he stammers, “Well, you see, after you left Lou and Haz got pissed, and, well, they’re inside right now.”

Zayn just stands there for a bit before letting out a bust of laughter. ”Oh, man, I’m so sorry. Yeah,” he agrees, “They don’t care much about being inconspicuous.”

And even though Liam’s uncomfortable as ever with the turn of the conversation, he chuckles agreeably. 

“No, but seriously, man,” Zayn calls to Liam, “do you wanna crash at my place? You can even take the bed if you want.” Zayn offers a bit too hopefully.

“Nah, I’ll be fine. They can’t last forever, can they?” Liam tries at a joke, but there’s a tinge of panic in his voice.

Zayn reaches out toward Liam unthinkingly, wanting to laugh and comfort the other boy. His arm lands on Liam’s elbow, cold as ice. “No, they’re drunk. They’ll pass out after they bust.”

Liam cringes at Zayn’s crudeness, but Zayn ignores it. “Liam,” he calls. And Liam locks eyes with Zayn to where Zayn almost can’t breathe. “Be careful with the cold. Your skin is freezing.”

Liam just laughs humorlessly and shakes his head with “I’ve had worse” rolling so quiet off his tongue that Zayn wonders if it was meant for his ears.

“Anyway,” Zayn backs up, “I’m heading back in. See you tomorrow?”

Liam gives a small smile. “Yes, Zayn. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Liam.” And with that, he steps back inside and falls on his bed, although it takes him a while to actually get to sleep with images of sexy Batman playing through his subconscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give me some songs to listen to.


	3. Doctor's VIsit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam bonds with Louis, and more is revealed on Harry/Louis.  
> Liam accompanies Zayn and his children to the Doctor's office.

**L**

Liam used to love mornings, getting up before the sunrise only to have it greet him after a long run. The colors always soothed him, and – as cheesy as it sounds – gave him hope that the beauty of the sun would transpire throughout the rest of the day.

And he’s so close to rolling out of bed and pulling his old runners on. Because he knows that even his therapist recommended it. He _knows_ somewhere deep down that he misses it, that he needs an ache that runs bone-deep instead of soul-deep. That he needs to push his muscles to the brink, sweat dripping into his eyes as he fuels himself for the rest of the day.

He used to love mornings because he knew that if he could get through a hell of an exercise, he could get through the rest of the day.

And, honestly, the yelp he lets loose mixed with the cold floor smacking his arse wounds both his rear end and ego so that he thinks he may never need a run again.

Liam lies on the hardwood, ice to his clammy skin. He’s foggy from a deep sleep, reality piecing together itself slowly as he tries sitting back up after falling off the bed. And – sure enough – Louis is on the left side of the bed he was just in. And Liam has no clue how Louis ended up there.

And just like that Liam’s scrambling around on the floor, trying to find longer _pants_ , and a sinking feeling hits his stomach so hard he thinks he might be sick. Because maybe he _did_ something with Louis last night, and if he did he couldn’t live with what that might do to Harry. And because if Liam can’t cover up with something other than boxers and one sock Louis will _know_.

So he’s in the bathroom, slamming the door shut with a click of the lock before shouting for Louis to wake up because “I’m sick mate. I think you should go.” He pops his head back out for good measure, because he thinks he’s clammy enough to appear nauseas.

Louis’ voice croaks “Stop yelling. Stomach hurts like hell.” as he tries shoving a pillow over his head.

Liam feels bad – he does, but he can’t handle this right now. Mornings have become his not-so-quiet time to wallow in self-pity, and it’s hard to do so when someone else is looking worse off. “Louis, I’m ill. You should go.”

Eyes creaking open, “Liam?” rolls off his tongue in confusion.

“Yeah, um, I don’t know how you ended up in my bed, but I’ve caught a bug.” Liam’s eyes shift nervously, because he’s a shit liar.

Louis rubs his hands over his eyes in a groan. “Last thing I remember I was with – oh fuck – Harry.” Louis slaps his head, but only winces at the impact. He starts mumbling about how told himself he was done with Harry as if forgetting where his is.

“Lou?” Liam briefly considers going to his side to comfort him, but he knows he can’t.

Louis looks at him at the call, really looks at him. “Right,” he says as he tugs off the covers and stands to his feet. He looks to the clock with “Oh _shit_ ” and something about him having practice as he shuffles around before scurrying out of the flat with a bang of the door.

Liam exits the bathroom with a sigh before locking the bedroom door and falling back on the bed, hoping to either collapse into himself or sleep.

**Z**

Most people would piss themselves if they woke up to someone in their usually empty bed, but not Zayn. With friends like his it’s only a matter of _which one _wound up snuggled into him.__

__Dark waves tickle his nose when he shifts slightly, and with a better look he realizes Harry has been crying. And he tries not to take sides in these situations, but honestly, Lou can be such an _arse _.___ _

____“Babe,” Zayn tries to coax Harry awake because it’s nearly 10, and Lou should be back anytime now from practice. A few more strokes over his hair and some gentle nudges later Harry shifts onto his back groggily. And Zayn feels bad for having to witness Harry like this, because he can literally _see_ Harry’s thoughts play across his face as he realizes that he and Louis hooked up _again_. “Are you okay, Haz?”_ _ _ _

____The boy in question just shakes his head slightly as gentle tears line his eyes. Without looking to Zayn, Harry just whispers “I left this time”, as if trying to reassure himself of reality._ _ _ _

____And Zayn doesn’t know if Harry’s voice holds relief or hurt, so he doesn’t say anything. But then Harry’s face is crumpling and burying itself into Zayn’s shoulder with a muffled sob of “And it still hurts.”_ _ _ _

____Zayn can’t think to say anything even as a million thoughts run through his head._ _ _ _

____When Louis and Harry first started shagging they were drunk. They both claimed it a one-off, but then a week later it happened again. And again. And again. At first both departed when it was over in mutual agreement, but then after Louis had begun initiating it, showing more affection, Harry settled to stay the night. Then, after Lou freaked because ‘ _What are you doing Harry? Why are you still here?_ ’, Harry was too embarrassed to even speak to him for four days. After Zayn and Niall’s intervention they hugged it out, and everyone thought it was in the past. But a week later when both busted in each other’s hands Harry didn’t even stick around to clean himself up. And that’s how it played out each time. A Hit It And Quit It type deal that renewed its One Time Special value every few days._ _ _ _

____Zayn had tried reasoning with Harry that he knew Louis, and that when Louis asked why Harry hadn’t left that one night he was actually hoping for Harry to reveal his feelings, that Louis couldn’t be first to admit. But Harry shrugged it off because denial is such a strong being._ _ _ _

____Still rubbing over Harry’s back he sighs, “He’ll be back soon.”_ _ _ _

____At that Harry sniffles once more, smears a hand over his nose, and gets out of bed to pull his boots on with “I’m going to the studio.”_ _ _ _

____Zayn can’t get a word in edgewise before Harry’s out the door. He’s allocated ten minutes to shower and get dressed in joggers and a hoodie before Louis is entering his apartment and slumping down next to Zayn on the couch._ _ _ _

____“Geez, Lou,” he drags his eyes away from F.R.I.E.N.D.S. to wrinkle his nose at his idiot best mate, “You stink.”_ _ _ _

____Louis doesn’t even blink as he claims, “Liam’s sick,” which means he’s still dealing with his own emotions over the Harry ordeal by avoiding it._ _ _ _

____“Babe,” Zayn frowns, wanting to comfort Lou but knowing he won’t allow it._ _ _ _

____“Maybe I’ll just grab my stuff,” Louis jerks away from Zayn in favor of stalking to the exit and slamming the door behind him._ _ _ _

____And Zayn really just doesn’t have it in him to _deal_ with Harry and Lou’s fucked up drama, so he rolls off the couch and throws the balcong doors open before slamming them shut and lighting a cigarette._ _ _ _

____When he’s done letting the nicotine calm him it’s thirty minutes away from 11:00 am, and he knows if he wants to be back with his kids by then he needs to leave soon. With one last huff he’s back inside grabbing his keys, locking his door, and making his way to his car._ _ _ _

______ _ _

**L**

Liam’s too busy chuckling at the F.R.I.E.N.D.S. episode that’s on to hear someone enter the flat.

“Wow, you guys are practically soulmates,” someone snorts from a few feet behind him, which elicits a horribly girlish shriek from Liam and initiates his fall off the couch.

“Shit, sorry,” the man – Louis – offers, but it looks more like he’s holding in a laugh. His hands go up in surrender with “I was just gunna grab my clothes I left here.”

“Right, sorry,” Liam forces a smile to his face as his heart rate steadies, “didn’t hear you there.”

Louis nods his head before asking, “You okay, man? Like are you still sick?”

“Oh, right,” Liam flushes, “No. I think I’m fine.” He scampers up from the floor. “Kind of embarrassing that you’ve knocked me on my arse twice already today, though.”

And neither are prepared for the burst of laughter that comes from Louis, but Liam shortly falls in along with him.

“Yeah, sorry, man,” Louis’ eyes squint with little reserve, “I don’t really know what happened. I guess I just fancied a cuddle.”

And Liam chuckles again before, “Right, well, your clothes are folded on the dresser in Niall’s room.”

“Awe, shucks, Li,” Louis bats his eyes, “you didn’t have too.” But he’s moving to his stuff already before poking his head out of said room with “Mind if I shower here? Pressure’s incredible.”

Liam half jokes, half begs: “Don’t be getting off in my shower, now.”

Louis throws his hand over his heart in offence, voice playfully high with “what kind of bloke do you take me for, Liam?”

“Well,” Liam shrugs, trying to hide his smile, “you did force yourself into my bed.”

Louis laughs at that but doesn’t answer, and a few minutes later the shower is switched on.

Liam goes back to watching Pheobe play tunes on her guitar when his phone goes off with a text message from some unsaved number. It reads: _Warned you about hypothermia._

And Liam laughs because of course Zayn would be the _’I told you so’_ type of bloke. He takes a few moments to think of a reply before settling on “ _and I warned u about lung cancer so in 10 years dont come cryin to me_ ” before saving the number.

Almost instantly comes “ _Do the world a favor and put some clothes on.”_

And when Louis enters the lounge with sopping hair Liam should probably greet him with a ‘hello’, but what comes out instead is “Did you give Zayn my number?”

Louis doesn’t falter, though, as he falls onto the opposite end of the couch and swings his legs up onto the coffee table. “No. He probably got it off Harry.”

There’s and edge to his words that Liam plans to further up on as he types out a quick “ _u know u like my abs ;)_ ” and presses send without thinking, because he’s in a What The Hell mood.

“So,” he starts with Louis, “how’d you end up in my bed? Where’d Harry go?”

And Liam tries not to notice the way Louis tenses up at Harry’s name, but then he’s making the joke “Can’t I have both?” and smiling at the t.v.

Liam decides it’s best to let it go and instead focuses in on Rachel and Ross’s conversation as he makes easy chatter at Louis.

He can’t help himself checking his phone every few seconds in hopes that he missed the vibration of a new message. But after the clock turns to 11:49 - _six_ minutes since he sent his last text to Zayn – he begins to panic, because maybe he freaked Zayn out, which would be the _third_ time _at least_ that he just knows he’s fucked up whatever chance they have at a friendship.

“Oi!” Louis groans, which distracts Liam from the bubble of despair settling in his stomach, “what’s got your knickers in a twist?”

And Liam tries to play it off, but then he glances at his phone one last time and Louis catches on. In mere seconds Louis is on top of Liam scrabbling to yank the phone out of his grasp.

Louis snatches it easily because Liam was unprepared and snickers as he thumbs alive the device. “No, lock, eh?” Louis wriggles his eyebrows with a laugh, “Ballsy. Now, let’s see what –“ And then his voice cuts off and Liam hides in his hands as a strangled groan leaves his mouth.

Another hoot of laughter rips from Lou’s mouth, and Liam starts his defense: “I _know_. It’s just that I wasn’t _thinking_ -“

“Zayn is going to _shit_ a _brick_ ,” Louis’ face is animated as he claps Liam on the back. “Nice going mate.” When he finally takes the sight of a distraught, blushing Liam in he just laughs, “Don’t worry, mate. It’s best to clear the way before you shove up there anyway.”

And Liam’s face flames a new red at _that_ , but he can’t even say anything because his phone vibrates again and Louis just tosses it to him. “ _Fuck_ no, Lou,” his voice pitches, “I can’t read it.”

Louis takes the phone back with a roll of his eyes before glitting over the new message and frowning, “Dammit. No homoerotic subtext for me.” But Liam doesn’t quite get it, eyes wide, so Louis ensures, “Don’t worry, babe. Just read it.”

So, against his better judgement, he does.

**Zayn:** _Sorry, I was driving.  
Abs? I could have sworn those were rolls. ;) _

And then “ _Gotta run. Kids are a mess. But feel better. X_ ” flashes on his screen before he locks his phone and tosses it back on the coach with a relieved sigh.

“I’ve got to hand it to you, mate,” Lou starts without looking up from his own phone, “I figured I’d have to set you two up myself, but with your filthy words Zayn’ll be cumming down your throat in no time.”

With a strangled cry Liam’s too shocked to say anything, much less look at Louis, because at the visual Louis laid out his cock twitches, and he can’t deal with those thoughts right now. “No,” Liam finally manages, though it sounds strained, “it’s not like that.”

Lou just clicks his tongue. “We’ll see.”

But before Liam can build up his counter-attack, Louis is shoving his phone in front of Liam’s face to show him baby toys. “What do you think, Li? ‘m wanting to really splurge my nieces and nephews this Christmas.”

“Wait, you have more than just Ali and Mezhrad, then?”

“Shit,” Louis offers almost apologetically as his hand slaps over his mouth, “I mean, it’s not confirmed or anything, but Eleanor is totally pregnant.”

“Wait, what?” Liam turns fully toward Louis.

“I mean, look at the facts: she hasn’t had any alcohol in near a month now, and she’s always wanted to have children young.”

Liam just stares at him dubiously, as if he doesn’t believe what Louis’ letting on because there isn’t sufficient proof.

“Okay, fine,” Louis rushes, shoulders going up in a shrug as if he’s been caught, “Niall may or may not have let it slip last night that they’ve been trying. God, Liam, don’t look at me with those eyes,” Louis shivers as he flinches away, “You’ve got me feeling as if I’ve committed a felony.”

Liam laughs at that, because he wasn’t aware he’s been looking at Louis with any particular set of eyes. And just like that the previous conversation is forgotten in exchange for Liam to wrinkle his nose at the contraption pulled up on Louis’ phone. “That looks like they’d strangle themselves with it, Lou. Come on, now.” And he pulls up google on his own device to look up the hottest toys for babies this year.

And he can’t help but notice the way Louis visibly relaxes once he realizes Liam isn’t there to badger him for letting a personal secret slip. And he realizes as Louis slinks closer to him, teasing banter set up at Liam’s pick, that maybe he wants to stick around for Christmas.

**Z**

Zayn _really_ should start making his kids sleep in their own cribs in their own room, but he hates waking up in the mornings, and the sight of Ali and Ezhra as soon as he opens his eyes makes the actual process of getting up much more bearable.

And he's especially happy at 6:30 am when he wakes up, because Mondays are his "Baba Days" as the lads have labeled it, which means he has his babies all to himself. And also because the babes are still asleep, which means he can get back to it as well.

At 7:00 he counts down from ten to one in his head, and at zero he forces himself from bed. The fact that he's up so early doesn't surprise him considering he went to bed rather early last night what with the babies knackered from too much coddling and candy at their grandparents.

(“Mum, how many times have I told you not to give them chocolate?” Zayn sighs as he eyes the giggling 13-month-olds in their carriers on the ground.

“Oh,” Trisha lies, “that must’ve been Safaa on the way to the park.”

“You were extra careful on the –“

“Slide?” she finishes with a fond curve to her words. “Yes, dear; you remind me every time how Mezhrad doesn’t quite like it.”

Zayn tucks his chin sheepishly before his mum tugs him into her warm embrace.

“It’s quite alright, love. It means you’re a good father,” she assures in a whisper just before Zayn ducks into his car to return home.)

He leaves the master bathroom door open so as to keep watch on his kids while he steam cleans his body in the shower.

And he tries not to let his mind drift, he really does, but then he remembers yesterday and how easy it had been to throw teasing banter at Liam, and how even Liam's negative attitude toward smoking had felt too soft to be an actual chide.

And, seriously, Liam's punctuation and grammar should irk Zayn in the rawest form, but then the smiley faces tagged at the end make up for it, and - _no. No._ Zayn turns the dial all the way to the right and lets the icy water chill him to the core and clear his mind, because he is _not_ thinking about Liam. Especially not in the shower.

As he steps out of the tub he pulls on track pants and a hoodie before entering into his room. The kids are still asleep, but he knows they'll be up soon enough.

Grabbing at his phone off the night stand, he frowns at the indication of a voicemail, because _when was the last time he checked his phone?_ The voicemail was sent last night at 7:00 when he was putting his kids to bed. Bringing his phone to his ear, he listens to an automated voice: " _This is Blaine Pediatrics and we're calling to remind you of your morning appointment at 8:00 am..._ "

And he misses the tail end of the voicemail because _he does not have time for this_ and _it's already 7:30_. And he's seriously trying not to freak out while he ticks off the people who could possibly watch Ezhra for an hour while he runs Ali to the doctor. But Niall's called in randomly to the station all the time, and El's either at the coffee shop or working with someone on her part-time modeling, and Louis’ no doubt at off-season right now.

He dials Harry's number and let's it ring in his ear, but he has to be leaving _now_ , so he goes next door and pounds on the door ruthlessly. While still knocking Harry picks up with 

"Hey, Zayn. What's up?"

"Why the fuck aren't you answering your door?" He honestly doesn't mean to sound so harsh, but he cannot _deal_ with this right now and his daughter is _ill_ and -

"Um, I'm actually at work, Zayn. Y'know, Monday and all," Harry drawls as if trying not to startle a wild doe. "What's wrong?"

Zayn pinches the bridge of his nose in efforts to calm himself, too caught up in breathing to hear shuffling in the apartment in front of him. The door opens to a sleepy Liam who looks a bit frightened and out of it.

Zayn ignores the man in front of him in favor of ranting to Harry who he _needs_. "I forgot Ali has an appointment at 8:00, and there's no one to watch Ezhra, and I could take them both but you know how he's moody in the mornings, and -" Zayn lets out a squawk as his phone is jerked from his hand.

"Hey, Harry, it's me," Liam starts into the phone.

Zayn's suddenly furious, knows he’s developed chronic mood swings overnight, because not only does Liam have no right to take his phone and continue his conversation, but he's wasting time and -

"It's fine; Calm down, Haz."

The older boy makes to spit something at Liam, but Liam's free hand covers his mouth, and his eyes are just stern enough as if _daring_ Zayn to say something.

"The kids are fine. Zayn is getting them ready right this second." And Zayn isn't quite caught up, but then Liam's hand goes to his lower back, pushing him back toward his own apartment whilst giving him the order with his gaze.

Liam ends the conversation and sticks the phone in the pocket of Zayn's hoodie. "Zayn, go get them dressed. I'll be right there." And then Liam's inside his own place out of sight.

Mind whipping back to the matter at hand instead of the way he automatically focused in on Liam as if the boy were made for a role of authority, Zayn shakes his head and rushes back into his flat, grabbing two pairs of pants and two shirts as fast as he can. And he really doesn't want to wake either child, but he has to get them dressed _now_ and -

A warm hand on his back makes him jump, but when he jerks around it's just Liam. "Zayn," his voice is still firm, but there's a hint of a worried undertone. And something else he can't really place, but it doesn't matter because one hand is at his waist and another is cupping the back of his neck. "Look at me, Zayn. It's only 7:37. We have plenty of time. Stop freaking out on me. You're fine. Your children are fine."

And Zayn's surprised by how much slower his heart rate is now. He nods slowly. The compromising position was most likely meant as a pep talk from one person to another, but it still feels intimate. "I'm sorry, Liam. You don't have to come." Zayn feels bad for acting like a lunatic, yelling and banging down doors.

The taller boy rolls his eyes as he moves to Ali, sliding on her shirt carefully. "It's fine, Zayn. And you've already woken me up at this ungodly hour, so you might as well let me tag along." He gives a goofy smile. "And I know I wouldn't want to leave my baby at home with someone I just met, so, no, Zayn – I'm not staying here with Ezhra just to have you freaking out the whole time."

Both of them know Zayn _would_ worry, so there's no use arguing. Instead, Zayn decides to be productive in pulling Ezhra's pants over his rear end. Liam finishes dressing Ali and gently picks her up, carrying her out of the room.

The flash of panic that sparks in his stomach is ridiculous, but it doesn’t stop him from calling out a shaky “Liam, what are you doing?” He doesn’t take the time for an answer in favor of scooping his clothed beta into his arms and scuttling into the foyer.

He stops when he sees Liam pulling Ali’s arms through her coat before tugging a random pair of shoes on her tiny feet. “Can’t be late, Zayn,” he teases as he holds out Mezhrad’s coat to the father/son duo.

Zayn plasters a tight smile onto his face as he finishes dressing Ezhra and holds the door open for Liam as they silently make their way to the ground and into Zayn’s car. It isn’t until they’re halfway to the clinic that a silence is broken. Not exactly an awkward silence, but a tense one that Zayn can’t for the life of him wish to analyze.

“Do you mind?” Liam’s voice rings out as he gestures toward the radio.

“Go ahead, yeah,” Zayn murmurs, chancing a glance to his kids who are – incredulous as it is – still sleeping.

Some Top 40s play until Zayn pulls into the parking lot of the pediatrician’s. “Are you alright, mate?” Liam’s voice is low, uncertain.

And it’s only then that Zayn realizes his hands are shaking slightly and he’s in a _horrid_ mood. So he chooses not to answer Liam in favor of taking his ten seconds.

 _Ten_ , he checks the clock – 7:51. _Nine, eight_ , he presses on the break to switch his car into park before pulling the keys out, successfully killing the engine. _Seven, six_ , he unbuckles his seatbelt and opens the door. By the time he’s opening the backseat to find Ali asleep, five and _four_ have passed as silently as their former. _Three_ has Zayn unbuckling the seatbelt from his baby’s ridiculous contraption, and with _two_ he has Ali in her carrier held in his hand.

“Um,” Liam draws Zayn’s attention with an apologetic grimace on his face, “I can’t quite seem to get this carrier unhinged.”

 _One_ , he makes his way around to the other side, side-stepping Liam to ease Mezhrad’s carrier up and out of the backseat. “It can be tricky.” _Zero._

Liam offers a smile, boyish charisma radiating off of him with ease as he takes Mezhrad and the party of four make their way into the pediatric building, Zayn in lead.

The check-in process is smooth as ever, a friendly blonde not even having to fake the chirp in her voice as she tells them to wait for Dr. Blaine.

Chairs are lined on the sunshine-yellow walls, but the big focus in the waiting room are the tables set up in the middle of the floor that hold all sorts of contraptions for children ranging aged 0 to 12: blocks, dolls, coloring books, and the list goes on. Not to mention the aquarium enclosing oddly shaped, colorfully shaded fish that lines the back of a row of seats, making a pathway for five feet following the entrance.

Zayn shows a seemingly stumped Liam to two seats next to a magazine-clad table in the left corner of the room.

And it’s _not_ awkward once they’re seated, babies at their feet. It’s not; Zayn’s used to the waiting room being mostly filled with women, and sometimes even a male and female couple. He’s used to coming here as a single male. It’s _not_ at _all_ squirm-worthy that some of the staff know him well enough to eye the bloke right beside him. And de doesn’t much have time for causing a sweat, because Ali needs to be woken.

As always, his little girl is a fucking ray of sunshine as soon as she’s up, squirming around in her tiny shirt with a cartoon sun on it and beginning her mewls Zayn associates with hunger.

Just as he pulls out a sippy-cup from the diaper bag he toted in the receptionist calls his name, and Ali starts jerking her limbs around in a mannerism Zayn knows from experience means she wants to fight – often times the morning grump when not having her way.

With a silent curse, he’s debating whether to take Ali up to the receptionist and make a scene or put her in her carrier and make a scene when Liam pipes up: “I’ve got it, Zayn,” his lips tilt up lazily as he grabs her juice and a burp rag (just to be sure) out of the tote, slinging it over his shoulder. Liam reaches out for his daughter, and, really, Zayn can’t say no to someone else mucking around in the dirty work.

“She likes to kick, babe,” Zayn warns before handing off Ali and making his way to the front desk, nodding at the blonde in acknowledgement.

“I just wanted to confirm your check-up you set for Mezhrad and Ali on December 18th.”

“Yes,” Zayn nods, “Ali’s just in for what looks to be an ear infection today.”

“Alright, then,” the lady – Julie – types away at her keyboard. “They seem to be overdue for vaccinations. Would you like them done today?”

Grimacing, Zayn lets out a small huff, because Ali hates shots. “Better sooner rather than later, I suppose.”

Julie just smiles. “I hope she feels better.”

Turning back around, Zayn doesn’t expect to see anything flooring, but he can’t help being stumped by the ridiculous face Liam is donning, smiling wide at Ali who is stood on his lap, running a hand over his stubble while cradling a sippy-cup to her chest. 

Zayn shakes his head as he helplessly allows the grin pulling on his lips to redden his cheeks. Standing back in front of Liam and Ali, all he says is “That little girl relieves herself as soon as she’s got liquid in her system.” And as soon as he says it he regrets being born.

The other lad only laughs, patting Ali’s bum before glancing down at Ezhra. “Are you saying you’re changing her?”

Zayn pulls a face he himself can’t bother to identify, nodding his head _yes_ as he places his daughter on his left hip.

Liam reaches down without being asked to hand off the diaper bag to Zayn with a faux relief playing his features. “Good – she’s beginning to stink, Zee.”

The father can only fumble a smile, chin ducking at the nickname as well as the goofy grin Liam falls into as soon as his little complaint passes his lips.

Ali garbles out a goodbye that still sounds disturbingly like ‘baba’ as Zayn whisks her past the door separating patient rooms from the waiting area, turning into the first bathroom on the right.   
She’s silent for the most part as Zayn confirms that – yes – she stinks, wiping her bottom before fastening a new diaper on her.

After washing his hands and pulling Ali’s pants back up, she rests against Zayn’s shoulder, calling out a drowsy “Juice, Baba,” (or the equivalent in baby talk) as she makes grabby hands toward her sippy-cup.

And he really can’t help but admire their reflection in the mirror. She doesn’t look anything like him, really. Maybe the chin, or her eyes if you catch them right. But no one can deny their father-daughter bond with the way she clings to Zayn, the man himself tucking her so firmly under his chin. He takes one more whimsical moment to fall in love with his family before he decides he’s been away five minutes too long.

Nearing the waiting room, a voice calls out for him: “Mr. Malik?”

He turns around to find Dr. Blaine with a polite smile on her face. She looks kind as ever, blonde hair fanning around her face with an air of professionalism in a white medical coat.

“Yes, hello,” he laughs, extending his hand to give a firm shake.

Ali turns toward Dr. Blaine as the woman continues, “Just the man I was looking for. Would you like to step back into the room?”

“Oh, um, actually,” he falters, because he knows he has to be with Mezhrad when the boy wakes up, or else he’ll panic. “I should actually get my son out of the waiting room.”

“Oh, of course,” she steps ahead of him to open the door to the rest of the patients to be seen.

With a smile, Zayn steps into the foyer and starts toward where he left his child only to find   
Liam’s chair empty as well as Ezhra’s carrier. It only takes him half a second to locate where they’ve gone, Ezhra very much awake with his hands against the aquarium fish tank he’s always so enamored with. Liam bobs his head along with whatever’s pouring out of the ear buds, one in both boys’ ear.

And Zayn doesn’t want to interrupt, doesn’t really think he knows what’s going through his mind in order to say _anything_ , but he has an appointment to get to. “Liam,” he calls out timidly, almost as if he’ll spook the two boys if he’s not careful.

Liam whips around blindingly, countenance as though he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. In turn, Mezhrad fusses at the change of scenery, but Liam only rubs his back, repositioning the baby so he’s able to see his father.

Dark eyes locked with his father’s, Ezhra’s face doesn’t reveal much by way of mood or emotion, but his intense eye contact preaches sermons. It’s not that the 13-month-old isn’t very expressive, it’s just that, well – he’s not conventionally expressive. Not how Ali is, at least, which is almost overly so. Mezhrad is silent but deadly in the best and worst sort of way. Calm, quiet, broody, Ezhra is able to convey his emotions through a single touch or look. And, really, it punches Zayn in the gut every single time to see his child so fucking _old_ for his age.

Dutifully, Liam starts toward Zayn, not even breaking pace to gentle down Ezhra’s hand from his ear where Liam’s mouth presses against as distraction. “Sorry,” Liam starts warily, glancing between Zayn and the unfamiliar woman, “When he woke up he was crying for you, so I just shared some tunes with him and he calmed down.” A hand goes to rub at the back of Liam’s neck as he focuses on the floor. “And I somehow remembered he likes water, so..” Liam trail off, shrugging as if he wants to apologize.

Both lads are still listening to whatever Liam’s playing, but Mezhrad is reaching for Zayn with a soft “Baba”. It’s a bit amusing to see Liam work to untangle and put away the ear buds, but Zayn is saved from comment when Dr. Blaine informs the new party of the impending appointment.  
Liam looks almost scolded as he scurries to grab both carriers, Ezhra tight to his chest with just a forearm and – _wow_ ; Zayn is working on convincing himself the sight of Liam putting his muscles to use isn’t undeniably _sexy_.

Because Liam looks flustered and Zayn is feeling generous, Zayn guides him into their appointed room with a palm to the flat of his back. And he’s really trying to come to terms with the fact that Liam was able to handle Ezhra’s wake-up as well as he himself could.

And on top of it, as if Zayn needs further proof that the man is very near annoyingly flawless, Liam even took it upon himself to pacify further by letting Ezhra enjoy the fucking glorified fish tank. Not to mention the fact that the man was able to easily comfort his son as to where Mezhrad didn’t feel the need to cover his ears.

Zayn is still trying to wrap his mind around how he feels toward the whole situation when they’re all in the doctor’s office, him and Liam sitting on the patient chair whilst both babies grow increasingly antsy as they seep into consciousness.

A chuckle escapes when Zayn offers Ali to Liam just as Liam lifts Ezhra to Zayn. He’s just barely able to focus on Ali’s happy, nonsensical talk as she arranges herself in Liam’s open arms, because as soon as Ezhra is against him he feels this overwhelming calm wash over him. And it’s not that Ali doesn’t make him feel loved, that he doesn’t love her – God, no – it’s just that whereas Ali is a mischievous firecracker (he swears Louis is the damned anti-Christ for it), Ezhra is lazy and clings to Zayn in a way that makes him believe his son needs his _baba_ just as much as Zayn needs his beta and beti alike.

With Mezhrad’s warm mouth pressed to his neck, Zayn is able to watch Liam morph before his eyes from an abashed puppy to pack leader, polite smile revealing Liam’s perfect teeth as he offers his hand in a shake with “Liam Payne” to Dr. Blaine.

And the appointment goes as well as any emergency pre-ear-infection visit can go with Ezhra in a pleasant (if not sleepy) mood as he nuzzles to Zayn’s shoulder, head facing to the right to stare at what Zayn presumes is Liam. It’s a bit uncomfortable after a while, trying to answer the Doctor’s questions on Ali’s proposed ear infection whilst not jostling Mezhrad.

“Well, Mr. Malik,” Dr. Blaine smiles, hands joining over her crossed knees, “it looks like you’ve caught an ear infection before it could even bloom.” She winks with a chuckle. “All I can really say is to watch carefully; Make sure water doesn’t get in her ear, if she acts like it’s hurting, try putting a warm wash cloth over it. If symptoms progress, I can start her on antibiotics, but for now all you can do is wait it out.”

Glancing at his daughter, Zayn almost rolls his eyes in the fondest of forms to see her so carefree, running her hands over Liam’s inked forearms she managed to tug the sleeves up on. Liam matches her face of study with his palms up, one supporting Ali’s back while the other he lets her squeeze at. 

Zayn confirms that he’ll call as soon as Ali expresses sign of her infection worsening, and then Dr. Blaine is shaking his and Liam’s hand both (Zayn tries not to think on that too long) and informing them that a nurse will be in in a few minutes to give Ali and Ezhra their shots.

“So, um, thanks for coming,” Zayn starts, eyes focused on a poster of a baby’s anatomy because he feels a bit daft.

Liam chuckles, not bothering to search for Zayn’s eyes as he’s consumed with making faces at Ali. “It’s no big deal, mate.” 

“No, really,” Zayn knows he _sounds_ daft too, “’m glad I had help with these rug rats today.”

An arm is thrown around him then, and he tries not to sink into it. “Zayn,” is all the brunette-haired boy gets out, a little scolding, a lot amused, before a nurse is knocking on the door and walking in.

“I’m Claire,” the girl greets (and is everyone employed here blonde?) as her cheeks lift at the two babies. “Just the flu vaccination today for the little ones.”

Zayn nods as Claire gets to work gloving her hands and messing around with the equipment she brought in. Mezhrad, thankfully, can’t really be bothered by shots, so he just stays snuggled to Zayn’s chest as the nurse frets over not wanting to disturb him.

When she gets ready to administer to Ali it’s another story. “Um,” Zayn shifts awkwardly, not really knowing how to address it, but, “Ali here isn’t a fan of shots ‘m afraid.” He doesn’t know exactly the response he was looking for, but when Claire responds, he’s saved from sounding like a prat. 

“Oh, that’s fine,” she lets her bright white teeth bounce light around the room, “this one’s not bad at all.”

“Do you want me to take her, Liam?” he turns to the warm body beside him, the boy’s arm still casually resting behind him as he leans back on it. “She gets a bit violent at times,” a rueful smile twists his lips.

“I think I can handle it, Zee,” Liam winks.

And Zayn can only shake his head, playing off his childish, fluttering tummy as he says “’s your funeral, babe.”

Liam sneaks a firm grip on Ali when she reaches up to finger his nose. The girl doesn’t even notice the cold cotton sanitizing her arm or the pinch of a needle until it’s over, but when she does her face crumples – lips puckering, eyebrows furrowing over dark eyes – as she jerks away from Liam, swinging the chubby arm that received the wound backward to land a hit.

And Zayn feels his spine straighten, ears prickling to attention as Liam’s voice booms a “No!” Zayn thinks to be put off by the man’s gripping back onto Ali that pulls the pair face to face, but Zayn’s cock feels properly put _on_ when Liam’s voice bleeds dominance with “We do _not_ hit, Ali.”

But then Ali’s composing herself – quick as a whip, that one – already having surpassed the ‘I’m in trouble realization’ to the ‘make him feel like the bad guy’ guise as her eyes grow doe-like, green especially evident when tears well in the corners. And a quivering bottom lip is all it takes for Liam to cave.

Whispering “Crap,” the freaking softie pulls Ali to his chest, kissing her forehead to rectify his nonexistent wrong.

Zayn _really_ can’t keep the scoff to himself as he watches his fucking 13-month-old daughter wrap a grown man around her finger so easily. Faking an exasperated expression, Zayn whines, “ _Leeyum_ , honestly, do I _always_ have to be the Bad Dad?”

The increasingly guilty looking lad caves in on himself a bit, fear etching his features as he realizes he may or may not have over-stepped his boundaries in discipline. “Zayn –“

The raven-haired boy just _tuts_ , leaning eye level with his daughter before reinforcing “No hitting” with a slap to her hand.

The girl, rebellious as ever, doesn’t even act ashamed at being caught, just petulant as she garbles angrily and leans her left cheek against Liam’s chest, tiny fingers gripping his hoodie.

When he looks back up, Liam is thrown. “She just – played me!” he fumbles, eyes and mouth wide as ever.

Zayn can only giggle like a school-girl. His eyes crinkle, and his tongue pushes against his teeth as he leans into Liam slightly. “You live, you learn,” he says, and he can’t even feel horrified that something so cheesy escaped the confines of his mouth, because Liam lets out a laugh too, punching Zayn’s shoulder lightly as he rolls his eyes, pouting childishly.

Nearly sobered Zayn is until the nurse throws them a shy smile. “You four are the most adorable family.”

Lost for words, the older boy can’t think of how to respond, but then Liam swoops in with “Oh, we’re just mates ‘s all, but thank you anyway.”

Claire looks rightly embarrassed, but Liam shakes her off with a reassuring “It’s quite alright” before she’s escorting them out with a flush to her pallor.

And Zayn really doesn’t know how to process what she said, doesn’t have time to as he’s busy putting the kids in their carriers and then fastening the carriers back into the car. If Liam feels the tension, he doesn’t let on.

By the time the quick drive back to his flat is over Zayn is full-on panicking. Because he just _met_ Liam, and there’s no reasonable explanation for why the nurse thought them a proper couple – unless of course they act like it, and –

They’re already standing at the door to Zayn’s flat by the time Liam addresses it. “Zayn,” he starts, shifting Mezhrad a bit before bravely holding the darker boy’s eye, “I’m sorry about back there. I didn’t mean to come off flirty or anything.”

Zayn just brings his eyebrows together in confusion, thinks to correct Liam and tell him that he wasn’t being overly friendly, but Liam keeps going. “I know I tried to chat you up at the coffee shop, yeah?” A noticeable blush smears over the apples of his cheeks when he glances back up to Zayn. “But, like, ‘m sorry about that, yeah? We’re just mates, and I’ll start acting it.”

“Liam –“ Zayn’s arm reaches out for reasons unbeknownst to his conscious being.

“I should probably go back in,” Liam fakes a laugh that almost has him wincing, “catch the last of some quality cartoons.”

Zayn unlocks his door as distraction so he’s able to form coherent thoughts on the matter, but as soon as he opens his door Liam is clambering inside and asking where Mezhrad should be seated.

“I’ll take him,” Zayn answers softly.

Liam steps toward Zayn then, extending Mezhrad out only to have the baby burst into tears once in Zayn’s arms.

And, honestly, it was only a matter of time until Ezhra had his daily breakdown, but Zayn didn’t expect it to be at his father holding him.

“Crap. I’m sorry, Zayn,” Liam worries.

Zayn shakes his head, trying to compose himself to wave Liam off, but then the bulky lad is pressing forward to settle a hand on Mezhrad’s back and then Zayn’s, smearing the four of them together to mutter into Ezhra’s ear before kissing Ali’s forehead.

Mezhrad quiets considerably after Liam pecks a kiss to his ear. Stepping back to gentle a small smile to his face, Liam gives a quick wave of his hand with the promise of soon having a “music date” with Ezhra before he’s out the door.

Ali manages a pleasantry that sounds no more like “bye bye” than “baba”.

**Author's Note:**

> **give me some music to listen to!**
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> Message me at [my tumblr](Rogueziam.tumblr.com)


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